


Teachers Don't Make Money

by pyropinkfish, QueenEdgar



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi, Teacher AU, if you want wyoming and flowers fic here you go, lots of awkward freelancer teachers trying to live their lives, more ships as they develop, real talk this is more flyoming than anything else, the AI are teaching assistants, york is a major feminist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 22,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5063851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEdgar/pseuds/QueenEdgar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles focusing on the long school year for the freelancer teachers and their TAs (teaching assistants). With awkward family relations like the Carolina and Washington being the children of the principal, or Leonard Church (no relation) with his sort of girlfriend Allison Tex, Carolina just wants her Volleyball team to win, Tex's Basketball team already does. Florida keeps leaving blue dyed celery sticks for Wyoming. Washington wants to know what happened to the student Georgia and why it's an effective threat against his students. There's plenty of stories to be told. </p><p>Co written with Ladybugseatppl and QueenEdgar<br/>Mostly just a fun collection of drabbles about a page long each. Not gonna lie, it's 95% Flyoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. York and Delta

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is labeled with the characters primarily involved in it. It's not exactly chronologically ordered and each chapter doesn't have to be read though they do interact and overlap with each other at some point. 
> 
> For reference:  
> Director: Principal  
> Price: Counselor (for schedules etc)  
> Tex: Senior Math (Girls Basketball coach)  
> Church: World History  
> Carolina: Physics and Chemistry (Girls Volleyball coach)  
> York: Accounting  
> Wyoming: Speciality english classes  
> North: Fine Arts  
> South: Freshmen Math  
> Maine: Computer Lab/Study hall (Football coach)  
> Washington: Freshmen english  
> Florida: Botany/Biology  
> C.T. Government/Journalism

York wished he still had that “first day of school” excitement that about half of the students- and even less of the teachers- managed to keep up. Instead, he was on his third cup of coffee, trying to get back into the routine of 5:30am wake up calls and varying degrees of attention from his students. Accounting always brought in the same crowd: the nerds, the misers, and the kids who found out that they could avoid upper level maths if they took a semester of a business course instead. 

It was all the same to him, really; York didn’t necessarily have a huge passion for accounting, it was more that he never had the drive in college to actually get his business degree, so teaching it seemed like a safe alternative. And, well, the hot redhead that coached the volleyball team was a pretty good motivator to attend those bi-weekly faculty meetings.

“I’m telling you, D, this is going to be the year. Wait ‘til you meet her, you’ll get it.”

“I highly doubt that,” came a dry reply, the younger following York into the room. York had first been told of the school’s partnership with the local college at the end of last year, and a month before the start of classes he had gotten a very professionally worded email from a senior in the education program who was to be his Teaching Assistant that year.

York had invited the mystery kid- Mark Bellman, according to his email- to meet him at a bar, hoping to get the other to lighten up a bit; a full semester together would be pretty miserable if they didn’t get along. York’s idea of a casual get-to-know-you night was sort of ruined when the kid showed up with a binder full of potential lesson plans and a math team sweater with a gigantic Greek letter on the front, no doubtedly boasting an equally tacky slogan across the back. 

All the night really ended up accomplishing was basic introductions, and York ignoring the soon to be TA’s name in favor of giving him a new nickname after a slew of jokes at the expense of the sweatshirt. The newly christened “Delta” prayed the nickname wouldn’t stick-so of course, it had.

“Lighten up, would you?” York said, noticing Delta’s glare directed at the way the teacher’s feet were propped up on his desk. 

“I just think we should be setting a better example, _Mr._ York,” Delta said back, and York swore he saw the smallest hint of a smirk before the other went back to setting things out around the classroom and on the small desk that had been brought out for the TA. 

“Give it a rest, D,” York quipped back, though he did swing his feet down from the desk in order to fish his phone out from his computer bag. “Twenty minutes until the halls start flooding-nervous?” It was the guy’s first day teaching, after all. Delta seemed completely unconcerned, however, fixing York with that same calculated gaze.

“I see no reason to be nervous, they’re just students.”

York let out a low whistle at that, cracking a half grin. “You’re pretty cocky for someone who has three pages full of possible ways to introduce himself in one of those binders.”

Delta didn’t give York the satisfaction of being embarrassed by that particular fact, instead taking said binder up to the podium at the front of the room.

“I don’t see a problem with being prepared, that’s all.”

York kept any smartass comments to himself, moving to prop the door open and prepare for the wave of students to find their way to the room.


	2. Wyoming and Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're pretty weak for Flyoming.

Another year to bring another wave of sad students who butcher classical literature in hopes of barely scraping by with a C, oh how Wyoming wasn’t looking forward to it. He had to force himself up this morning and no matter how many cups of tea he had, nothing could motivate him into putting a smile on for the sake of being polite. Not when he had to drag himself to navigate the halls to his new classroom, because yes, for some reason they took his beautiful corner classroom right by the copier room and they gave it to Washington. Washington, the new teacher, who did not deserve such a great room just because his class was bigger this year with the large amount of incoming freshmen. His new classroom was not only right next to the main stairs, but also right across the science lab, leaving the air between them filled with a bittersweet smell of candles and clorox bleach. 

Nothing about this situation was rewarding. He was here for seven years and this was his payment? 

“Oh, Reginald. I didn’t realize you were taking Church’s old room!” Wyoming paused before he turned his head around to look at the familiar voice, his hand already turning the knob of his own classroom door. 

“Flowers?” Well, maybe things weren’t that bad. “I thought you only taught botany. You’re in the chemistry lab, old chap?” Flowers made his way out of his room to speak face to face instead of talking across the hall. Wyoming felt his throat tighten, forgetting just how well Flowers could clean up. That royal blue button up did wonders to highlight the color of his eyes. 

“The science department has been getting smaller and smaller, they moved me around and settled me here instead of the third floor. Carolina took the other lab for her physics class.” He explained, beginning to fiddle with the end of the long braid of hair. Wyoming arched an eyebrow at him.

“I hear they moved a lot of people around. Do you think we’re getting ready for some new teachers?” He mused, attending back to the task of unlocking his door to avoid getting distracted by the way Flowers fiddled with his hair. With the door open, he walked in and shot the shorter of the two a look welcoming him to enter. Flowers didn’t hesitate to stride in and take a seat in the desk closest to the door in the front row. Little did Wyoming know that this would soon become Flowers' designated spot. 

“I heard we got a new English teacher.” Flowers started. Wyoming stiffened almost instantly and started to grumble about having to move classrooms and how he’ll miss the copier being right there. Flowers only laughed, beginning to stand up. He had his own class to prepare for.

“Oh, Reggie, I’m looking forward to a great school year being right across from you.” With a smile, he left leaving Wyoming to fume about his lost classroom.


	3. Church and Tex

A new school year always brought a new crop of freshmen girls looking to find a place where they can belong- and what better place than the Girl’s Basketball team? At least that’s what Tex kept saying as walked with Church to their respective classrooms. 

“Are you sure you can pry them from Carolina’s claws?” Church joked, jabbing his elbow into her side as the blonde scoffed, upturning her nose. 

“The Volleyball team is cute, but it’s nothing next to the Basketball team. Honestly, this is just another year we’re going to win the State Championship. I need the best of the best girls when my team actually competes.” She said firmly, pulling out her keys to unlock her door. Church sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned on the wall and watched her. 

“Carolina needs good players too. I don’t get why you guys don’t just share.” It was pretty hard to feel morally obligated to help out both a good old friend and a current girlfriend. Even though said current girlfriend was Allison Tex.

“I told you, I need my girls concentrated. Are you going to help me or not?” Tex opened the door, wrinkling her nose at the stale air. That first day of class smell was never appealing. Soon the fear of new coming students will replace it, and BO, which was arguably worse than stale air, but at least it was a change.

“Yeah of course, I’ll bribe my freshmen into coming to talk to the scary antisocial bitch of a senior math teacher with extra points. Because they’ll be game to do that.” Church sassed, following her in. He took a seat on top of her desk and watched her with bored eyes while she began to settle down.

“I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, dick.” She grunted while she began to boot her laptop up. “Don’t you have a classroom to be in?” 

Church stood up, dusting his khakis off. He turned towards the door, flipping her off as he walked out. “Goodluck, Tex. I’m sure you’ll get more recruits.” She stared after him, something almost akin to fondness in her eyes before it was refocused to setting her classroom up for her first period Algebra 2 class.


	4. York, Delta, and Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the budding suspense to what happened with Georgia.

“Mr. York-”

“I _know_ ,” came the teacher’s annoyed response, glaring daggers at the shared wall between his and Wash’s classrooms. Don’t get him wrong, York was thrilled to get rid of Wyoming. And he got along well enough with Wash, having hung out with him whenever he was pestering Carolina back in university. But York was utterly unprepared for just how loud the first year teacher’s class of freshmen would be.

“Mr. York, you can’t expect the students to concentrate with-”

“I know, Delta!” He snapped in a whisper that was anything but quiet. He rubbed his temple, looking around at the equally frustrated students trying to take their exams. He looked up at the desk next to his only to see that the TA was halfway to the door already, a determined look in his eye.

York had no idea what was said, but the room next door was silent for the remaining 38 minutes of class.

________________________________

Loud. Why did they have to be so loud? They were only a quarter way through class and Wash had already lost any hope of having control over the thirty some freshman crammed into his classroom.

“Okay, guys-guys, can you please-no, oh god don’t-” Hopeless was definitely a word Wash would use to describe the current situation. He let out a groan, head sinking into his hands. He didn’t look up until he heard someone clear their throat in front of him.

“Ahem- Mr. Washington, isn’t it?”

Wash jerked to sit up right, though it did nothing to change how helpless he looked in the room full of unruly students. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied weakly, looking the other over. “You’re York’s TA, aren’t you?” Delta gave a cold nod in response to that. The class seemed to have taken interest in the newcomer, looking over towards the desks and paying attention to Washington possibly for the first time since they sat down.

“While it is... _painfully_ apparent that you are new here, Mr. Washington, I believe you know just how thin the walls are. And,” he continued, “if you don’t find a way to quiet your class down while the students in Mr. York’s room are testing, he’ll have to come handle them himself.” 

The TA had turned while he spoke, half addressing the class itself with that last statement. If they knew what was good for them, they would pick up on the barely concealed threat. While York was a relatively laid back teacher, you didn’t want to get on his bad side. 

“Now,” Delta carried on, fully addressing the class now. “I believe Mr. Washington assigned some reading? I would hate to have to send Mr. York over to determine just which individuals in the class are causing the disruption. After all, we know what happened to Georgia...”

The class fell startlingly silent at the mention of the senior quarterback that had been reduced to tears by the usually friendly Business teacher two years ago. York had proudly told the story to Delta countless times, and the TA had to admit, it was every bit as impressive as York made it sound. 

Washington just watched in something akin to awe, before murmuring quietly,

“What happened to Georgia…?”

Delta offered a small, tight lipped smile. 

“I’m sure Mr. York would love to tell you some time, Mr. Washington.” Delta looked around the room one last time before leaving as quickly as he had came, a satisfied look on his face at the silence in the room.


	5. York, South, and Georgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of what happened to Georgia  
> (and why York is a hardcore feminist).

_York was a pretty laid back teacher. He was kind hearted, friendly, and it was generally easy to pass his class if you paid attention. However there was some things he just wouldn’t excuse, and that was primarily the comments the football team kept making about his fellow female teachers. While sure, he would sometimes join in playful conversations about his obvious crush on Carolina Church, that didn’t excuse any sexist comments made towards any of the women he knew. His feminist attributes outweighed his guise of a “dude-bro.”_

_Which is how he ended up with the quarterback nearly in tears pleading with him not to follow through with his punishment._

_“Nuh, uh, bub. You had no problem telling your little friends the shit you wanna do to Miss. Dakota? Well you can tell it to her face.” That’s how York dragged a student twice his size to the freshmen math room, where South was sitting, already frustrated from grading quizzes._

_“Hey South, Georgia here has something he wants to tell you.” York said, tightening his grip on the boy’s shoulder. Georgia took a deep breath, casting one last pleadful look at York, anything for mercy. He did not want South’s wrath on him. York didn’t feel an ounce of pity._

_“What do you two want?” South growled, eyes narrowed as she looked up at the two in front of her desk._

_“Go on, say it. Say what you told all your little friends.” York pressured._

_“I-I wanted to apologize. For some stuff… that might not have been… appropriate… about you…” Georgia muttered, tucking his chin down and averting his gaze._

_“What the hell is this?” South hissed, her grip on her pen tightening to the point it was on the verge of snapping._

_“Uh…” The senior really had no intentions of going on, hoping it was enough to just get detention for a week or something. Anything but this._

_“Tell. Her. What. You. Said.” York prompted._

_“I said… that I wouldn’t mind if you had s-sex with me.” Before South could respond, York scoffed at him._

_“No, the exact wording.”_

_“Please Mr. York, I can just take the detention.” Georgia pleaded. York stared at him, a frown on his face and the scarred eye only made the look feel sinister. “I said I wanted to shoot a load over your face and…. breasts.”_

_“I think the word you used was a little more misogynist than that. C’mon. You had no problem telling your friends, why are you getting stage fright now?” York didn’t even try to hide the mock in his voice._

_“Tits.” Georgia grumbled, hesitantly looking up at South’s face as her look only twisted into pure rage and her pen finally broke, a piece flying and hitting him in the shoulder. He gulped._

“Oh man, D, you should have seen the kid’s face. He was gonna piss himself he was that scared of her.” York laughed as he stapled another study guide. Delta and him had a system where Delta would order the three papers and hand them to York to staple. Since it was so menial of a task, York took to storytelling. Delta had to admit, it was a certainly interesting story. He now had a healthy dose of fear for Miss. Dakota. 

“What happened in the end?” Delta mused, pretending to keep his interest at a minimum. 

“I know I gave him a week of detention with me, and South, well… she... Turns out her and Tex can get along when it comes to punishing kids.” Delta scoffed, rolling his eyes as he handed York another packet to staple.


	6. North and York

“I couldn’t get any fricking work done with Wash’s class being loud. Again.” York took North’s chair, propping his feet up on his desk while North sat on the edge as he subjected the poor man into listening to him rant. Not that North wasn’t patient into listening because he could relate to having a loud classroom next to him. South loved screaming at her freshmen math students by the minute. 

“Hmm.” 

“Seriously, even D gets some thrill by telling Wash to shove it.” York huffed, grabbing a trinket off of North’s desk to play with. 

“He’s still a new teacher, he’ll learn. Just be patient. You could still be next to Wyoming’s class when they do poetry.” North craned his neck around the class of diligent sophomores working on their paintings. This particular class was thankfully very calm compared to the senior printmaking class.

“You know, as least Wyoming kept his kids quiet.” York said. “I send Delta in there more often than I keep the kid with me. Wash could benefit from a TA.”

“Would you really want to subject some poor kid into that mess?” North laughed, arching an eyebrow at York. Amused at the thought of Wash losing his class to a TA, York shrugged with a playful grin on his face. 

“Couldn’t be any worse than me sending Delta in there every other period.” 

“Speaking of Delta, where is he?” 

“Oh… uh…. you know. I’m not sure. Taking a lunch break?” York suggested, dropping his feet off the desk as he realized pitifully it was soon time to return. He handed over the trinket, to which North accepted and started to rotate in his hands. 

“You should get back, we only five minutes left of the period,” North said. “Uh hey guys? Time to clean up. Remember to wash your brushes out.” While North addressed his students, York stood up and clasped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“See you man, have fun with you know, painting rainbows and shit. Draw me a dick.” And with that, York ditched out before the bell brought a rush of students in the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much York, we really like writing York. Rip.


	7. Church and Tex

“Alright guys. As you might know, Ms. Tex and I have been in a rivalry for a while now.” Church started, standing in front of his class with a look akin to determination. The students muttered to one another as they stared back at their dorky instructor. The “rivalry” between the senior math teacher and the world history one started the second Tex was hired and claimed the class next to Church’s. Ever since then the two had been in an awkward dance of not dating and prank wars.

“Anyway, she keyed my car last night. So this is what we’re gonna do. Everyone make a paper ball, we’re striking back.” Church pounded his fist in his hand, trying to make this petty fight with Tex into some heroic speech. 

“Isn’t that like… illegal?” One kid supplied, in regards to the keying. 

“Eh, probably. But c’mon, we can get my revenge on her and not take the pop quiz I was gonna hand out today.” With a decent bribe in place, Church lead his students into the next classroom. His World History kids ran in by twos. Church entered in last, arms folded smugly as he prepared to look at the carnage. 

Only to his surprise not only was all his students waiting in a circle with their paper balls in hand, so were Tex’s. In fact as soon as he walked in, every single kid from both classes pelted him with the crumpled balls of paper. The only thing his students had to say was that Tex was scarier than he was.

Betrayed, Church looked to Tex, huffing as the blonde tilted her head back and laughed at him. 

“Did you actually expect that plan to work? The walls are so thin, Leonard.” She teased. “Besides, your kids are more loyal to me anyway.” No one wanted the math teacher to hate you.

“Oh you… evil bitch….” Church scowled, shaking his head at her. Guess he had to up his game.


	8. Wyoming and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flyoming Flyoming Flyoming  
> Happy Halloween everyone

Reginald Wyoming’s passion of literature is what inspired him to take up teaching. Teaching was what inspired him to leave his home in England and travel to America, because apparently he didn’t value being paid or respected. It wasn’t the money or lackthereof that kept him in America, but the people he learned to love since arriving nearly fifteen years ago. Well actually, there was one person, someone Wyoming had met five years back, who was a particularly good reason to stick around.And said person was the grown adult sitting on a desk with a grin on his face, causing the growing uncomfortable silence in his classroom. 

“Mr. Flowers, can I assist you with anything?” Wyoming said, turning around to face the class. He had been focusing on writing terms on the board in preparation for review, but upon finally noticing the school’s friendly botany instructor, Wyoming recapped the dry eraser marker he was holding and pointed it at the man.. 

“Oh no, please continue. It can wait till your lecture is done.” If it could, he wouldn’t have snuck in class and took a seat Wyoming thought bitterly, squinting at him for a long second before directing his attention to the poor kid who had the misfortune of sitting right next to the grinning Flowers. He felt a pang of pity for the boy. 

“The words on the board are all you need to know for tomorrow.” Wyoming said, making his way towards the door and shooting Flowers a look that implied he wanted him to leave. “I expect everyone to remain quiet and work diligently while Mr. Flowers and I discuss important matters outside the door. Gary is in charge..” With leaving his TA to watch his class, Wyoming propped the door open and waited for Flowers to stand and walk through. He ignored the suggestive smile when the other thanked him for being a gentleman. 

As soon as the door shut behind them, Wyoming turned to reprimand Flowers. “You know the students will talk if you keep showing up to my class.” He said, keeping his voice low to prevent anyone from eavesdropping. The shorter of the two laughed, indicating the door. 

“They already talk.” He said with a coy grin on his face. Wyoming narrowed his eyes but otherwise puffed up to himself. 

“What can I assist you with that must be so important that interrupted my class, old chap?” Flowers looked playfully offended for a second before he pushed his hair off his shoulder and reached into his back pocket. He handed Wyoming two pieces of paper, and curiously Wyoming read what they said. “Tickets to the school’s play?” 

“Well it doesn’t sound like the wonderful friend date I had intended it to be when I bought them if you say it so plainly like that.” Flowers whined, watching as Wyoming’s face flushed. 

“Uh, right. Good show mate. I’ll go with you.” 

“Oh, on the back of that is my address. It’s just easier if we carpooled.” Flowers added, walking away to his classroom just across the hall. Wyoming stared after him before hurrying to shove the tickets into his pocket and turn into his own room. Where he was greeted with half the class and Gary eagerly waiting for his return. Cursed blushing making it hard to look professional. 

“Carry on with your work, students.” He grumbled, rubbing furiously at his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reviewer made me realize I made a mistake with how I previously worded a few things. Just to clear up a few timeline-related things:
> 
> Wyoming came to the states about fifteen years ago to start teaching.  
> He joined the school seven years ago where he met some of the older freelance teachers.  
> Flowers showed up five years ago from the current point and met Wyoming.  
> Wyoming has been tip toeing around his romantic feelings and is unsure if Flowers returns them for about three.  
> He's only staying in the states because he has developed a strong connection to these people (Flowers in particular), and tries to pass it off that his home wouldn't have the same "opportunities" as America does. Basically he's got a big gay crush on Flowers and is too much of a coward to risk rejection. :^) I had to retype the end notes twice because I accidentally hit reload, sorry if this is choppy.


	9. Flowers and Wyoming and Gary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gaaaaaaaaaaaaay af finally the celery scene

“We can see the veins of a flower with food colored water. Since celery is easier to see through, we’re gonna use that to show what I mean.” Flowers perched on the edge of his desk, holding a stock of celery up for his morning botany class to see. “It takes a couple days for the celery to suck up the dye, but it makes for some pretty cool effects- and it’s safe to eat. If you like three day old celery colored red.” He continued to talk more about the backburner assignment as he pulled off the rubber band around the stock of celery. 

“Sooooo, what we’re gonna do is take our solo cups, fill them halfway with water, and put food color in them. Make sure to write both of you and your partner’s names somewhere on the cup. Half of them will be in direct light to help photosynthesis, the other half won’t.” Flowers slid off his desk to start passing out single stocks of celery to each pre-established pairs with their cups ready. “Once you get your stock, feel free to go to the sink to get water--”

“Uh, Mr. Flowers, someone’s at the door.” Tucker pointed out. Flowers paused, turning his head towards the open door. He smiled wide and waved for the guest to enter as he finished giving the last pair their materials before turning towards the door. 

“Gary! Good to see you.” Flowers greeted, wiping the water residue off his hands on his trousers. 

“Hey, Mr. Flowers, Mr. Wyoming needs the copier room keys. I asked around and Miss. Dakota said you had them last.” Gary said, jerking a thumb behind him in the direction towards the classroom he came from. 

“Oh, please call me Butch.” Flowers laughed, moving to his desk. He began to rummage around his drawer, grumbling under his breath about where the keys went. Finally, he pulled a set and tossed them at the monotoned TA, who caught them with no problem. 

“Mr. Wyoming also said to start returning these back to the office like a respectable man, Butch.” Gary added, a hint of a smirk, though hard to pick up on, toyed on his face. Flowers smiled, folding his arms over his chest.

“Well, tell Reggie that if he has any more problems, I’m here to help.” Gary left with a half-assed attempt at a wave. 

It wasn’t even ten minutes back into helping his students pick the food coloring for their cups before a rapid knock on the door frame startled Flowers and his class. 

“Honestly man the bloody staff lounge is on the way back from the copier, just drop them off when you’re finished and I won’t have to come storming in here!” Wyoming stayed by the door, huffing loudly like a child for attention. 

Flowers looked over, cocking his head in confusion when he noticed Wyoming holding a set of keys with a blue keychain. 

“You gave Gary the wrong set of keys.” The English teacher explained, welcoming himself in the room so he could place Flower’s keys onto his desk. 

“Oops. Sorry about that, Reg.” He hummed, walking to his desk. He brushed past Wyoming’s leg to get to his drawer, pulling out the other set of keys to trade. Wyoming seemed to shift closer, inspecting the new set closely, plucking them from Flower’s hands. He let his touch linger more than necessary. 

“Is that everything you need?” Flowers said, turning to size him. They were clearly too close for anyone to be comfortable, especially the actively observing class. 

“Hmm. Maybe if you just returned them back to where they belonged.” Wyoming taunted, swirling the ring around his finger before he stuffed the keys in his pocket. He didn’t back off, crowding Flowers against his desk where he could only run into his chair if he moved back. 

“And I decide to just keep them?” Flowers challenged, arching an eyebrow. His smile never faltered and Wyoming spoke without a filter. 

“Well, insubordination will land you in detention, Mr. Flowers.” 

“Leave the detentions to the students, I’m sure you can think of a more creative punishment for me, Mr. Wyoming~” Flowers practically purred, worming his way out from the desk. Wyoming moved back to let him pass. 

“Just suck his dick already.” Tucker grumbled under his breath, covering his mouth with his palm. It didn’t muffle the comment enough for it to go ignored. Flowers looked over at the student, a too-wide smile stretched over his face as he asked Tucker to repeat himself. 

“Just a bit louder, I didn’t quite catch that.” The grin was made even more unnerving by the murderous look in the man’s eyes. Tucker paled, mouth agape as he fumbled to think of a response that would get him in the least amount of trouble. He really didn’t need to become the next Georgia. 

“I-I uh.” He stammered, looking around as if a fellow student would save him. Flowers was just going to insist again that he repeat his sentence when the bell stopped him, students immediately hurrying towards the door. 

Tucker saw his chance for an escape and bolted, making it out the door before the low tone of the bell had even finished and leaving scattered papers abandoned on his desk. 

Wyoming was still recovering from the comment himself, a slight shade of red as he inched towards the door. 

“Right then, um, thanks for the keys.” Wyoming started, turning towards the door before he heard Flowers scoff. 

“You interrupted my class! The least you could do is help me move all these cups.” Flowers insisted, beginning to pick up two of the cups. 

Slowly Wyoming followed suit, grabbing two in each hand, mindful of the plants sticking out of them. “Where are these going then?” 

“Half of them are going to your room.” Flowers hummed, making his way out the door across the hall. The English teacher gawked, scurrying after him. 

“What do you mean in my room?” 

“Well, yours has the best sunlight, of course. I really don’t understand why they wouldn’t put me on the east side. My lesson plans include plants!” Wyoming couldn’t argue that logic. Or, Flowers wouldn’t let him. Either way he looked awfully shameful carrying cups of celery in his classroom. 

“What are those…” Gary questioned, watching from Wyoming’s desk as Flowers placed the cups spaced perfectly on the window sill. Wyoming hung his head, muttering a simple “just let him do what he wants” in response as Flowers hummed a delightful tune to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written at 1 am to 3 am, with deleted dialogue such as: Grif's cries that HE has detention with Wyoming and really doesn't need to see any kinky teacher sex fantasies Flowers might have. And the lovely line "Tucker is a dead man. like 50 shades of oh fuck"


	10. Flyoming with Carolina and co

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> honestly I just really like flyoming theres another chapter of this gay ass ship too 
> 
> BUT here we really show the true meaning of the American School system

“The English department is getting a budget cut again?” Washington cried, sounding defeated. Wyoming would have pitied the kid if he wasn’t still bitter about the classroom thieving prat. 

“To make arrangements for the gymnasium to be rewaxed, certain things had to be moved around.” The Director’s voice drawled on enough to make even North sigh. 

“Don’t worry, David, the Art department hasn’t seen a penny since the time we found some old color pencils. You get used to it.” North commented, keeping eye contact on the Director. The old man scoffed, about to call the blonde out before his daughter cleared her throat.

“If there’s all this money getting thrown to sports, where is the new volleyball court? Why does Tex get new basketball nets? Not only that, but about the Science department?” Carolina questioned, her eyes narrowed at the other woman. Tex arched her eyebrow, a retort apparent on his lips before Church elbowed her to stop before she made a mess of things. 

Wyoming observed the display, eyes scanning around the room of people in folding chair all arguing with a sort of disappointed look on his face. One that could be mistaken for boredom at the fact his department was suffering again. 

“Where’s Flowers?” York leaned over from behind him, putting his elbow on Wyoming’s shoulder. The older froze momentarily before scowling in response, turning back to face the Accounting teacher. 

“I’m not his bloody keeper.” Wyoming hissed in response.

York smirked, holding his hands up in mock surrender at the defensive tone Wyoming had. 

“Is there a concern you have, Reginald?” The Director called, pointing his glare at the man. 

“You mean other than the fact my students won’t have access to new textbooks for another year? Absolutely not. Sorry.” Wyoming scoffed, looking back around at the door. York brought up a point he hadn’t missed. Flowers never missed a staff meeting, and yes, Wyoming had been looking around for him. 

“That’s it for today, you’re all dismissed.” The Director said and soon people were packing up to leave. Wyoming lingered momentarily, unsure what to do before he rolled his shoulders and started towards the door, only getting stopped by Carolina in the process. 

Before the redhead even opened her mouth, Wyoming could feel the surging headache. “Hey, where’s Flowers at? I could have used someone else from the Science department as backup.” She cornered him in, and with York approaching beside her, Wyoming felt like a trapped animal. 

“Why must you lot insist on assigning me as Flowers’ nanny?” 

“Are you trying to say you don’t spend every waking minute with him?” Carolina retorted. 

“That’s rubbish. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a cuppa tea waiting for me at home. Far away from here.” Wyoming excused himself carefully, avoiding bumping into the already agitated woman. Soon as he was in the clear, he was making his way towards his classroom to grab his laptop and papers to grade. 

The eerie empty halls seemed to echo up ahead with chatter. As Wyoming turned the corner he could make out a light coming from Flowers’ classroom. Moderately surprised, he made the left turn inside instead of going to his own room across the hall. 

“Butch, good lord man. You missed the faculty meeting, you know?” Wyoming said, peering in the classroom from the doorway. Flowers sat on his desk, talking to a student. He fiddled with his hair, mouth spread into that cheery grin. Wyoming wondered what it was like to be so damn happy all the time. Regardless, once the man noticed him, those sharp indigo colored eyes were on him.

“Did I? Oh dear. I hope it wasn’t anything too important? Franklin, I’ll have to continue this conversation tomorrow. See me before class, okay?” He turned his attention back to the student. 

“No pro-blamo! See you daddy!” Wyoming’s eyebrows furrowed as the lad scampered off past him. 

“Did he just call you ‘daddy?’” He had to bite back the sheer shock of it. What an absurd comment. 

“Sometimes students look up to you as a parental figure. Who am I to judge?” Flowers laughed, tossing the braid he had been previously fiddling with back off his shoulder. Wyoming squinted, unsure how to approach that statement without embarrassing himself. 

“Uh…. right then. Our dear Carolina wants to interrogate you for playing hooky on us.” 

“Does she? That’s unfortunate. I’m not very good at being put on the spot.” Flowers stated thoughtfully, tapping his chin. Wyoming was absolutely sure he was lying. 

“Too damn bad. You skipped out on me. We talked about the new science equipment and it’s a vote between the department heads for who gets the new beakers and I want them.” Wyoming swore, nearly jumping up as Carolina’s voice caused him to tense. Flowers, like the supernatural creature he probably was, didn’t even flinch. 

“And how did I know that following you would lead me to Flowers?” Carolina added, walking into the room as the English teacher sputtered in his defense. The other man put his hand on his shoulder, a fond smile gleaming from him. 

“Thanks for stopping by, Reggie, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wyoming was glad to have the excuse to leave. 

He could hear the two discuss business as he walked out and into his own room, wondering if it was as cutthroat for supplies for them as it was for the English department. He didn’t even feel remotely concerned for Flowers’ sake with Carolina. If anyone could handle their own against her, it was certainly that big ray of hope. 

The next week when Flowers got brand new potting supplies for the Greenhouse, Wyoming only grinned to himself.


	11. Flyoming with Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goes with chapter 9.

“ _Mr_. Wyoming.” Wyoming looked up from grading an essay, head cocked as Flowers closed the door behind him. Normally he kept the door open to air out the class when he had his free period, and since Flowers’ block happened to coincidentally be at the same time, the two usually enjoyed coffee together as they fussed over lesson plans independently. 

“Why my dear, that tone sounds as if you’re miffed at me.” He said, setting his grading pen down in favor of folding his hands over his desk innocently. 

“You” a finger was pointed at him “accuse me of never putting the copier room keys back. But I went to check them out and it turns out you have them.” Flowers moved closer, stopping until he was right in front of the other’s desk. He put his palms out on it and leaned forward, bright eyes locking with gray ones as his bangs fell in his face and pursed lips trying to hide a grin. It was honestly comical. 

Wyoming’s smirk spread over his lips. “I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re on about, mate.” 

Mock offended, Flowers stood up straight and folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t make me kiss that smirk right off your face.” He threatened, keeping an eye on Wyoming as the man stood from his chair and walked around to face Flowers properly, using his height to his advantage. 

“If that’s the only consequence, then what if I don’t disclose the location of the keys?” Wyoming mused, watching the seemingly brilliant idea spark in the other teacher’s eyes. Flowers stepped up, tugging Wyoming’s tie so the man was forced to bend his head down. Wyoming’s breath hitched momentarily as Flowers closed the distance between their lips. He reached out to place his hands on his shoulders, trying to steady the shorter from knocking him back against his desk. 

Flowers pulled his head back, scanning Wyoming’s face for any signs of their boundaries being pushed too far as he shuffled closer. “You know, I’ve been just dying to know what it’d be like to kiss you with your mustache. Can’t say I was disappointed!” He wormed his knee between Wyoming’s legs, hands going for his hips. 

“Christ, man. Took you long enough to make a move.” Wyoming scoffed, turning his head away to rub his cheeks on his shoulder. 

“Excuse me! You know you could easily ask me out to dinner too.” Flowers chastised, going for kisses along Wyoming’s exposed jaw, knee arching up just enough to make Wyoming’s grip on his shoulders tighten. 

“Would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight?” Wyoming tried, turning his head back to meet the other’s lips. 

“Well, I’d be pleased as punch!” Flowers declared, nipping at Wyoming’s bottom lip before pulling back to look at the door. “Hold on, I think there’s someone here.” Wyoming growled to himself, pushing Flowers off to cross the room and open the door. 

“Yes hello?” 

“Hey Wyoming, do you still have the copier room keys?” Washington asked, peeking inside the room to see Flowers making a dramatic display of straightening his shirt. He flashed the blonde a wink and Washington visibly recoiled. “I can come back…” 

“Oh for the love of...” Wyoming snapped, rubbing his face as he quickly strolled to snag the keys out of his desk. “Here.” He tossed them at the other English teacher and closed the door in his face. 

“What?! I asked first!” Flowers cried, folding his arms over his chest with a childish pout on his face. Wyoming scoffed. 

“You’ll have to get them from Washington, my dear. Later.” He tone was suggestive, enough to make him giggle. Flowers pulled himself up on the desk and motioned for Wyoming to come closer, making up for the little interruption before the period ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I thought about writing other characters but instead it turned into more Flyoming and their budding relationship. Note these two have been dancing around each other for a while, long enough that subtle sexual jokes were made. This is the first time anything had been done about it that wasn't a quick kiss to the cheek from Flowers (because he's just a really friendly and personal kind of man!!!) 
> 
> Real talk on a personal level, my girlfriend and I have two aus together we've been writing and world building, and this one dubbed "Teacher AU" is more Flyoming and York than anything else.


	12. Wyoming, York, Washington, and C.T, and co.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bullshit because this story is 95% of Flyoming and 2% of York and 3% of Chex

“Hey Carolina, you doing anything this saturday?” York carried over two disposable cups of coffee, one with heavy cream, the other with just two sugars. He handed the cup to the red head, pulling a folding chair next to her. It was too early in the morning to be having a meeting, but York thought he could make the best of it before the Director bored them with whatever he had to say. 

“I have a Volleyball game.” Carolina looked up, pushing her bangs from her face as she took the cup with just sugar and sipped it. York frowned, running his hand through his hair, clearly trying to think of a response. Carolina looked away, then stood up and took the cup with her when she noticed her brother walk in. 

Delta took her spot when she left to call to Wash. “Perhaps you should have checked her schedule before you considered making a proposal.” He suggested, pulling out a book from his bag. 

“Knock if off D.” York grumbled, taking a swing of his coffee as to stew in his rejection properly.

“Oh, so sorry to see you strike out with our dear Carolina.” Wyoming chimed in, taking up another chair next to Delta, Gary soon followed suit to Wyoming’s other side. 

“Like you could do any better.” The accounting teacher responded dryly. 

“On the contrary, York. I happen to have a date this Saturday. So sorry that you don’t.” Wyoming responded, a sly grin on his face when York looked up, knitting his eyebrows together. 

“I’m calling your bluff.” Wyoming raised his hands in mock surrender, never once letting the grin drop from his face, even as more people came filing in for the whatever impromptu meeting the Director had. 

“I swear by it, mate.” 

“Swear by what?” Washington’s voice cut through. Him and C.T. arrived, taking the last two seats at the little card table. York instantly looked around for Carolina, a mildly disappointed look on his face when he spotted that her attention had shifted to talking to the Dakota twins now. 

“Mr. York does not believe Mr. Wyoming has a date this saturday after Mr. York failed to convince Miss. Carolina to accompany him.” Delta explained, hardly looking up from the book he had.

“You have a date?” Wash turned his attention to Wyoming, cocking his head in surprise. 

“Well, don’t look so bloody shocked by it.” Wyoming huffed, growing a little bit offended that it was apparently such a hard thing to believe. He felt like he was an attractive man with redeeming qualities.

“I mean, it’s just. You’re kind of old now, right? I can’t see you going to a movie or something. The idea of you dating is like the thought of my dad dating.” Wash defended, rubbing his neck while C.T. snickered beside him, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Oh man, buddy. Wash just shut up.” York patted his shoulder, trying to save him from the embarrassment of continuing to speak. Wyoming crossed his arms over his chest, a set look on his face as he glared at the duo. 

“But seriously, fess up. Who is it?” C.T. asked, an analytic look to her eye as Wyoming shuffled in his seat and sat up properly when Flowers came in. Her eyes followed his, and once she realized who he was looking at, she let out a short laugh. Confident enough on her assumption of his date, she folded her hands over the table. 

Confused as to why she was suddenly so quiet, York looked around, catching sight of Flowers just walking in too. He grinned just as wide as she was. “About fricking time, Reg.” 

“Come off it now.” Wyoming grumbled, rubbing at his cheek. Thankfully the conversation was cut short once the Director cleared his throat. The meeting was short and sweet, a reminder that students were not allowed in the halls during class and to enforce it better to avoid any vandalism in the boy’s bathroom. Once it was over, Wyoming of course walked to his classroom with Flowers by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh well u kno sorry for mistakes. no one is more of an active flyoming shipper than york himself.


	13. Flyoming and Donut's Fanfiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was way too much fun to write honestly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After talking to ao3 author LemonKith, they offered to write a purposefully bad fanfic written by Donut for his two favorite queer teachers. Thanks for the laugh! We loved every word. Anyway, the rating in this is more mature for sexual situations. Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments!

With the school day coming to an end, Flowers followed his students as they trailed out the door, worming his way into the classroom across the hall. The botany teacher felt it was appropriate to bother his coworker while he finished erasing the whiteboard, reminding his students of tonight’s homework.

Butch took his usual spot atop one of the desks near the front of the room, sitting quietly while the rest of the class made their way out and trying not to draw any attention to himself. He caught Gary’s eye as the TA started packing his things as well, politely threatening him with a sharp smile to keep quiet as Flowers dropped down from the desk, sneaking up behind Wyoming.

“Reggie!” 

Wyoming jumped, spinning around sharply to face the man. A string of curses muffled under his breath had Butch grinning far too smug for the English teacher’s liking. 

“Good god man, must you do that?” 

Butch ignored him, putting his thumbs in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “I’m feeling Asian takeout tonight, sound good?” 

Wyoming’s reply was cut off by Gary’s clipped words, the TA lingering in the doorway.

“Hey Reg, someone left a notebook,” he pointed out, gesturing towards one of the desks.

“Must be from last period, I’ll hold on to it.” Wyoming walked over to the student’s desk, reaching down to grab the notebook. He flipped through the pages as he walked back towards his the whiteboard, before stopping dead in his tracks. A sharp breath caught in his throat as he skimmed the pages, certain words jumping out at him. The bright pink pen could only belong to one student, and the subject matter only further pointed Wyoming to the culprit.

Naturally curious, Butch cocked an eyebrow at him, especially when Wyoming snapped the book shut and paled. 

“Was there a name?” Gary asked, to which Wyoming brought the notebook against his chest in a protective hug. 

“No, sorry, no name. You can leave, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?” With a shrug, the TA left, not caring enough to question the panicked reaction Wyoming had. Unfortunately, Flowers wasn’t so easily convinced and found no trouble plucking the notebook from him. 

Like Wyoming, he flipped open the cover, the pages naturally falling open to the part where the binding of the notebook was most worn and broken in. Curious, he began to read over the words out loud: 

_Butch Flowers, the school’s botany teacher, was just starting another day and setting up his classroom while trying not to the think about how sexy Reginald Wyoming, the English teacher in the classroom across from his, was._

“This is… certainly creative.” Butch looked up, biting his lip with some sort of amused expression plastered on his face. “Accurate even.” He continued, looking back to the papers to keep reading. Wyoming covered half his face, groaning at the butchered sentence structure. 

“I don’t think you want to continue.” 

Flowers carried the notebook to a desk, sitting down so he could continue to read over the neat pink letters. 

_He went and retrieved some paper towels from the side in his classroom but there weren’t enough for the spill on floor and the water on his shirt. So he had to go to the male teacher’s bathroom which was past the staffroom on the way.  
Reginald was in the staffroom reading a Shakespeare book but he looked up just as Butch walked past the door. It was like they had a special, magical connection like that sometimes. “Where’s Butch going?” he thought to himself and pursued the other teacher._

“Do you usually stalk me?” Flowers stopped reading, looking back up with a predatory grin. 

“Well of course, seeing as we have a special, magical connection.” Wyoming snarked, having been a significantly faster reader and knowing what awaited the other in the next few paragraphs. Jokes wouldn’t save either of them from the words written, and the blush on Wyoming’s face gave Flowers the impression that whatever was written in the journal couldn’t be _that_ bad. 

Flowers looked to the pages again, swatting Wyoming’s hand away when he tried to reach for the notebook.

“Sorry dear, but there is no need to invade a poor student’s privacy like this, let’s just get to dinner, yes?” Butch scoffed at Wyoming’s attempts to stop him from reading, shooing him away again so he could continue with a dramatic voice. 

_Butch spun round and intercepted Reginald with a kick-ass wrist grab on the hand that had been going for his butt. Reginald had always wondered if Butch was secretly a spy or something because then that would make the fact he was going out with him even more awesome. “And now where do that think it was going?” Butch asked as he held up the offending hand between them. They both stared at it and Butch was kind of regretting not letting it grab him and give a good squeeze._

“Honestly, Reginald. It’s kind of flattering he would take such a keen interest in our relationship!” He said, watching Wyoming slump his shoulders in defeat. 

“Butch, I really don’t think we need to be reading this,” Wyoming tried, voice wavering. His protests went ignored, Butch’s eyes returning to the page before cracking a grin.

“Oh, listen to this, Reggie. He’s admiring my incredible physique,” he mused, continuing to read aloud:

_You couldn’t really see the stain on his jet-black shirt but it was wet and sticking to his skin on his stomach. He didn’t want to be distracting people all day because he was fit and his shirt was clinging to him tightly.  
But the one person who was always distracted by how fit he was was Reginald who had come in behind him by now and snuck up on Butch from behind._

Butch took a pause again to look up at Reggie, looking more amused than anything by the story. 

“Get that damned smile off your face,” Wyoming threatened, embarrassment presenting itself as irritation. Though he didn’t make another grab for the book, and instead gave Butch an expectant look. It was clear the other wasn’t going to stop now, and Wyoming waited until Butch turned back to the pages with a hum.

He started reading aloud again, making it through a few more poorly constructed paragraphs with what Wyoming considered to be an offensive jab at their constant squabbling over the keys to the copy room, before Butch’s words cut off abruptly. 

Wyoming raised an eyebrow when he stopped, the usually composed man practically sputtering as he murmured a near silent mix of shock and mortification.

“...oh...OH….well that’s...that’s certainly…..” 

Wyoming would have taken the time to say “I told you so” if he weren’t so humiliated himself. He couldn’t help but feel the least bit of pity for the other as Butch continued to gape at the page before silently handing the notebook back over to Wyoming. The English teacher would much rather have closed the journal and been done with this whole ordeal, but the look Butch was giving him told him that they were in too deep to stop now. 

Already regretting his actions, Wyoming steeled himself and continued with the line that Butch had been unable to bring himself to read.

_Butch cocked an eyebrow and something cocked in Reginald’s pants. Something  
big that Butch was really well-acquainted with._

Hearing the line read in Wyoming’s voice only made Butch blush more, and for the first time he started to understand just why Reggie was so unsettled by the writing. Wyoming tried his best to swallow his own pride in order to continue, taking some degree of comfort in the fact that Butch was now equally flustered. He turned an even darker shade of red as the two started to shed layers in the story, only to choke on his words at the next line:

_Butch sat up on the sink but made sure his cute, little, pink button of a hole was still accessible for the massive, throbbing manhood in front of him. Reginald was really big and he couldn’t get enough of it._

"I really don't like the implication I spend every waking moment with my 'pink... button hole' prepared for anal sex," Butch quipped, folding his arms over his chest. Witty banter hardly hid the fact he was fidgeting uncomfortably. 

“Ah, and see, I think this is the most factual part thus far,” Wyoming teased. “It really captures how ‘massive’ my ‘manhood’ is.” Butch actually snorted at him, having to cover his mouth to stifle the outrageous laughter.

“You talk quite the big game there, Reginald.” Flowers hummed, having moved from outright embarrassed to now smugly picking at his fingernails in mock disinterest. 

“I’m not sure I like your tone there, old chap. Are you implying this very... _creative_ work by our dear Franklin Donut could have a factual error?” Wyoming chose his words carefully, trying to find a more delicate way to describe the poor excuse for fictional storytelling. “I’ll have you know, my manhood and I get on just fine in the sack.” 

Butch laughed again, eyeing him carefully. “Do you plan on proving that to me, Mr. Wyoming?”

He waited for a response, only getting a flustered “hmph” after Wyoming failed to come up with something creative. Butch took his small moment of triumph with grace, before Wyoming read the next line without hesitation, his only form of revenge against Butch’s teasing.

_But Butch wanted that big, leaking sex stick inside him._

Now it was Butch’s turn to scoff at the handwritten words, Wyoming giving a far too casual shrug.

“I don’t know, it’s starting to sound like you want me to prove it.” Butch didn’t confirm nor deny that statement, and Reggie kept reading before either could comment on that particular fact.

_He impaled himself on Reginald’s long spear of love and then was being held up by nothing but the dick fucking in and out of his ass and his hands on the sink. The bathroom was filled with their moans and the wet noises of their kisses and bodies writhing together. It was like an orgy of 10 guys just between the two of them._

“What, no lube?” Butch’s comment went ignored.

“Shame about your shirt,” Wyoming pointed out, earning a puzzled look from Butch. “Says right here,” Reggie continued, pointing to a note scratched along the top of the page. “Got a ‘new stain to clean off, only it’s white cum now,’ sorry mate.” Wyoming just smirked, shaking his head in a kind of horror that was carefully masked by the thin veil of humour they had both adopted. “And hear this, it was ‘really obvious.’”

Butch snatched the notebook back with a little more force than necessary, scanning his eyes over the missed side margins where more notes and doodles crowded together.

“No, the real shame is that he didn’t quite get your moustache right,” Butch commented. He moved his finger along the side of the page, tracing over a drawing of what Wyoming supposed was meant to be his moustache. “Yours curls a bit more, and its fuller right along the inside here.”

Before Wyoming could point it how unusual it was that Butch had analyzed his facial hair so closely, Butch started to speak again.

"And look how romantic,” he continued, gesturing to yet another scrawled note in the margins. “We finish at the same time." 

Wyoming very much doubted just how romantic that was, moving to stand behind Butch and read over his shoulder. His eyes travelled just above where Butch had read from, only to be taken back by the next author’s note. Wyoming mouthed the note to himself, shaking his head as he read about how the story was, “what he taught us all those good writers do!”

With a frown on his lips, Reggie grumbled that there was absolutely no way he could have taught anything in class to encourage such a story.

“You should be proud, Reggie,” Butch said, closing the book after discovering there was nothing more written on the pages. “It’s not every day a teacher gets to see his students show off their creativity like this.”

Wyoming’s glare could have cut through steel, but Butch only offered a smile in return as he stood up from the desk.

Reggie took the notebook and locked it in his desk drawer, opting to deal with that the following morning, before rejoining Butch and standing at the man’s side.

“As… fun as this was,” Wyoming started, clearly ready to forget about the notebook for as long as possible. “I could go for that carryout right about now.”

“You know, I kind of have a craving for sausage instead,” Butch taunted as the duo gathered their things and walked towards the door.

Wyoming didn’t grace that with a response, but he did pull the classroom door closed a bit harder than necessary before turning to follow Butch out to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that had no right to be as fun to write as it was
> 
> here's a link to the pictures of Donut's journal if it didn't load for you at the top:  
> http://36.media.tumblr.com/51a3ae66b69fcc1c560c2256833059b1/tumblr_nxw0kdWmvD1uqk2fso1_r2_1280.png
> 
> I would apologize for almost all of this fic turning into flyoming trash but to be honest I don't think either of us are actually that sorry


	14. Flyoming and Donut's Fanfiction Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of flowers and wyoming finding Donut's less-than-innocent writing about them

“You can’t honestly be _defending_ him!” Wyoming looked less than amused as he paced the front of his classroom. Butch sat up on the desk with the faded notebook held in his lap, legs swinging slightly.

“I just think you’re being a bit harsh,” Butch commented, watching the other closely. The two were set to meet with Donut after classes that afternoon, and Wyoming had been becoming more and more irritated the more he thought about the notebook. Each of Butch’s attempts to lighten the mood had been shot down, his jokes brushed aside and usually infectious smiles ignored as Wyoming tried to let out his frustrations at the way they had been portrayed. 

It was a miracle the man didn’t explode when there was a light knock at the door, Donut swinging the door open with a smile and letting himself into the classroom.

“Hey Daddy! Hello, Mr. Wyoming!” The blond offered a wide smile, one that Butch returned and Wyoming met with pressed lips and narrowed eyes. 

“Have a seat.” Donut’s grin wavered at the strict tone, glancing around before sinking into one of the desks. He was wracking his brain for anything he could have done to end up in trouble with the two teachers, before his eyes widened a bit when Butch set the notebook down on the desk in front of him, two torn out pages resting on top of it. Wyoming stayed rooted in place at the front of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

“While I always encourage my students to write outside of class, this is….very, _very_ far from what I had in mind, Franklin.”

Butch’s own smile threatened to curve down into a frown at Wyoming’s stern, disappointed tone, quickly trying to lighten the mood again. Despite the severity of the situation, the botany teacher still had a soft spot for Donut, and it would crush him to see the other upset over this. 

“While we’re extremely flattered-” Butch was cut off by a sharp look from Reginald, and he paused before continuing. “We’re going to have to take these pages from you, but you can have your notebook back. We do request that you please keep us out of your stories from now on.”

Donut was quiet for a few moments, but rather than being upset at the scolding, it was something else entirely bothering him.

“So...you didn’t like it?”

Wyoming snapped at that, hands jerking up violently as he looked at the other in shock. 

“ _Like_ it? It was a _complete_ violation of our privacy!!”

Donut gave a sheepish smile, looking to Butch for some sympathy. “Well, it wasn’t technically a violation of privacy, I didn’t do any snooping. It was all fiction, except for the names.”

Wyoming shook his head in disbelief, mumbling bitterly about how they should have taken this straight to the Director, and that Donut was lucky he wasn’t in more trouble. Butch just waved a hand at him to quiet down, moving to stand opposite the desk where Donut was seated.

“What he’s trying to say is that it’s inappropriate to write about us. It’s alright if you want to continue writing, but it would make Mr. Wyoming more comfortable if he was left out of it.”

Wyoming’s mouth nearly fell open in protest. Was Butch really trying to imply that Reggie was the only one uncomfortable with this?

Donut nodded understandingly, giving Butch a grin. 

“No problem-o, Daddy-o!” His grin faded into a sheepish smile when he looked to Wyoming. “I really am sorry, I promise I won’t write about you anymore, Mr. Wyoming.” 

Wyoming found it hard to consider the apology sincere with the implications that Donut still had plans to continue writing about Butch. He kept his protests silent as Butch took the loose pages, letting Donut take the notebook back and sending him on his way.

“Bye, Mr. Wyoming!” He called over his shoulder, barely glancing at Reginald in favour of giving Butch a wide grin. “And I’ll see _you_ tomorrow morning for my extra tutoring!”

Butch had the audacity to wave at him as he left.

\--------------------------------------------------

When the door fell closed, Wyoming wasted no time rounding on Butch. His face was red with anger and shock, giving Butch an almost expectant look that the man met with a pleasant smile.

“Well?”

“Well, I think that went well, don’t you?”

Wyoming felt the urge to scream, or perhaps tear his hair out. Maybe he could beat some sense back into Butch, too, while he was at it.

“You don’t think, _maybe_ , you should have mentioned that BOTH of us should be left out?” 

Butch shrugged far too passively given the severity of the situation.

“I would just hate it if we made Donut feel like we were limiting his creativity. If writing about a healthy queer romance helps him work through things, then so be it. If we never find out, does it really matter?” 

Wyoming was starting to wonder just how much trouble he could get in for actually striking the man.

“And _I_ would hate if I have to spend another second watching him drool over you! Not to mention the ‘daddy’ comments have gone way too far.” Wyoming was terribly close to pouting, arms folded tightly across his chest as he stared the other man down. 

Butch stared, eyebrows furrowing “.... excuse me?” 

“It’s bloody obvious the boy fancies you!” Wyoming shouted, before actively making an effort to lower his voice. Rather than quieting, the words came out as more of a hiss. “It’s completely inappropriate for you to have that sort of relationship with a student.”

Wyoming was seething, and his temper threatened to explode again when Butch only responded with a cheeky smile.

“Why Reginald, I know you know better than to be actually jealous of a student.” Butch’s smile didn’t hide the dark look in his eyes. “Furthermore, I would hope you think better of me than implying I’m actively engaging in something of that nature with a minor.”

Reginald let out an exasperated groan, moving back behind his desk and sitting down in the chair. His cheeks still burned red, but it was no longer solely due to anger. It didn’t go unnoticed that he avoided meeting Butch’s eyes, either.

“I have grading to do,” he snapped, not giving Butch the satisfaction of admitting he was right. “Out, go on, go.”

Butch stood up without protest when he was rudely dismissed. He knew he had every right to be annoyed by Reginald’s accusations, but he doubted he would get an apology from the other. Instead, Butch walked towards the door with an air of forced casualness, not saying another word to Wyoming as he left the stubborn man to fume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we swear to god this isn't going to be entirely flyoming forever. In fact, we made a plan for the next ten or so chapters in order to space things out better. So, if you wanted more variety, we'll deliver. And if you want more flyoming trash, lets be real, we'll still deliver
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated, hope y'all are enjoying the fic!


	15. The Director, Gary, and the other TAs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little flashback to the TAs first day on the job, starring Gary.

“Now I’m sure I don’t need to remind any of you just how privileged you are to be here.” The school’s principal and Director of the student teaching program stared down the seven college students standing in his office, dressed in varying degrees of professionalism. 

The seven teaching assistants were lined up in front of the Director’s desk, the man’s thick Southern drawl clearing wearing on all of them as they were lectured about the kind of behavior expected while they were at this “prestigious institution.” Gary swore he saw the Director shoot at glare at O’Malley’s pajama pants as he spoke, but he could have been imagining things. Honestly, Gary couldn’t care less what the man was saying at this point; it was just by chance he noticed that disgusted look on the Director’s face in regards to his friend’s wardrobe. 

Well, friend was a stretch at times. It was a mutually beneficial relationship; mostly, the two worked together on group projects and complained about Sigma and Delta. O’Malley was a good guy, albeit a little hostile at times. And while he might have been a total idiot when it came to the English language, the guy was great at math. He’d make a great angry eighth grade teacher. 

Sigma though, he always rubbed everyone the wrong way and was up to screw anyone over. He usually dressed nice, with his hair slicked back like a snobbish 80’s rich kid. He was nothing if not ambitious, and Gary hated being on the wrong end of that talent- and more often than not, he was. 

Mark (or Delta, as most people called him, thanks to wearing the same Delta Mathletes sweater every day) was another one of those “always dressed nice and acted better than everyone else” types. He was way too smart for his own good and played by every rule. Sometimes when he felt like it, Delta could be sassy and thus funny, but most of the time he never appreciated a good knock-knock joke, making working with him difficult in Gary’s opinion.

Someone who did occasionally like his jokes was Theta. And that was a person Gary at the very least tolerated. Aside from the younger kid’s naive outlook on life, he was a great artist and did wonders with a canvas like some professional old guy you’d read about in a history book. 

Now the twins? Those were some of the few people Gary could try to get along with, considering he found them moderately attractive. Not that he knew much about Eta and Iota; they mostly kept to themselves in the science department. He only ever shared one Introduction to Child Psychology class with them and never really got a chance to speak with either girl. He knew they played Volleyball for their university, and that alone was enough to make him interested. 

“I expect you all to report to your assigned instructors when you have any questions. Each one has been given the task to help prepare you for the world of educating others.” The Director drawled on; Gary noted with a blank look on his face that the man was still speaking. 

“You all should have been in touch with your assignment already, but if not, they will be waiting for you in your new classrooms.” The Counselor chimed in, having handed out a notecard with a name, room number, and department for each TA beforehand. Gary looked down at his, rereading the name: Reginald Wyoming. He had emailed him once, enough to know the man was extremely English, and left it at that. Not everyone was a suck up and met their teacher a week before school started like Delta. 

“So…” O’Malley commented, rubbing the back of his neck, “does anyone else feel like this is like some fucked up blind-date situation, or...?” 

There was a collective groan from the other TAs, Gary fighting the urge to roll his eyes as the group was released to find their way to their new classrooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, we made Iota and Eta twin girls. 
> 
> Some of the names were changed, not all. The ones that were were just made as a joke but it ended up sticking with us, so we apologize for the inconsistencies there. Anyway, we'll be seeing more TAs and other characters now. Sorry for the timeline not being accurate here at all! Just sorta roll with the fall.


	16. York, Wash, and Maine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York's got a solution to Wash's classroom troubles in the form of a large, scary, quiet man. Wash isn't too sure.

“Hey Wash, got you a babysitter.” York peaked his head in the classroom, tossing the younger teacher a sly smile as he walked in. Wash perked up at his desk, eyebrows knitted together in confusion as the gym teacher followed York in his classroom.

“Maine?” Wash questioned, awkwardly giving a small wave to the gruff man. 

“Turns out, the time you have your rowdiest class, Maine just has a study hall that Sigma can watch.” York explained, folding his hands behind his head with an arrogant grin that screamed how he solved the big problem of a noisy classroom. 

Wash didn’t look too convinced. 

“York-”

“Nah, listen. Hear me out. I seriously can’t take another minute of your fifth period. My kids can’t concentrate, and D is going to have a fucking aneurysm if I have to send him over here one more time.”

“So what, you’re letting Maine take over my class?”

Maine’s chuckle probably would’ve been heard if York hadn’t cackled so loudly at that idea.

“Hell no, my buddy Maine is just here to put the fear of God into your kids. Dude’s scary as shit.”

Maine grunted in agreement- after enough years coaching football, the teacher was respected on principle, despite his computer class being seen as something of a joke by most of the students. 

“So I have a bodyguard now?” Wash asked, looking pretty concerned.

York groaned, shaking his head. 

“You’re not getting it, man. He’s just here to, I don’t know,” York said, turning back to the larger man next to him. “Maine, what do you do to keep them quiet in study hall? Glare ominously, throw out a few threats?”

Maine shrugged before nodding; York’s description was a surprisingly accurate portrayal of how he managed to keep the dozens of freshman in his lab quiet for the full hour.

Wash took a deep breath, honestly knowing that he had no better options for controlling his class. If Maine could keep his kids quiet for even one minute, it was well worth the try. 

“The Director won’t be mad about this?” 

“You are so painfully new to this whole teaching thing, Wash, it shows,” York said, looking almost disappointed before cracking a grin again. “Look, don’t worry about him, okay? Just trust me on this. Maine here means a quiet class, which means some peace of mind for the both of us.”

Washington realized there was no arguing with York, so he turned to Maine and offered a sort of hopelessly thankful look. 

“Fifth period.” Maine grunted and soon walked out, leaving the two in the classroom. York was quick to follow him out, exiting with two thumbs up and a huge grin plastered to his face.


	17. York and Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes grading papers gets stressful. York only wanted to give them a break, that was all.

York was certain if this went on any longer he was going to dig out his teaching license and throw it in the fire that had long-since dulled to a low burn across the room. He and Delta had been sitting in his living room grading students’ midterm exams for hours. They had come to York’s straight after school, and somehow they were still only halfway through the large stack of papers covered in scratched equations and sloppy work. York’s teeth were gritting as he listened the amount of distressed murmuring coming from Delta steadily increase. When his second red pen of the evening started to die on him, York was beginning to believe Delta’s murmuring held some truth; these students really had learned _nothing._

After finishing grading yet another barely-passing exam, York was sick of it. He tossed his pen down loudly, standing up. “Break time.”

Delta looked up, blinking with his pen still in hand. “We still have half a stack of grading-”

“I know, D,” York groaned as he moved towards the kitchen. “And I’m two exams away from jabbing this pen into my neck. So cmon, break time. We’ve earned it.” 

Delta sighed, but he couldn’t argue that it was growing more and more frustrating scratching corrections onto the midterms. 

“Just a short one, I don’t want to end up here all night.”

\- - - 

In York’s defense, they were only supposed to have a glass to take the edge off. And how was he supposed to know the college senior couldn’t hold his alcohol? It was just wine, after all.

“Whoa whoa whoa, D, what are you doing?” The younger was already moving back over to the table they had been leaned over for the better part of their evening, stumbling a bit as he fell into his chair.

“We need to- we have grading...the tests,” Delta tried to explain. York practically cringed at the way he was slurring his words; he was so going to get fired for this.

The teacher dropped a heavy hand onto Delta’s shoulder, the TA looking up at him. It took a minute for his eyes to focus as he blinked up at the man. 

“Hey, okay-D, let’s, uh, let’s take a break from the essays, alright? You just sit tight for a bit, drink some water.” York didn’t bother addressing the fact that they had supposedly just ended their break; he was buzzed, sure, but Delta was so far gone York doubted he could even record scores, let alone do any real grading.

Thankfully, Delta just nodded complacently. York let out a quiet huff and went back to his seat across the table, trying to focus in as he grabbed another stack of papers. But he kept glancing up, each time noticing the other watching him closely. After a few minutes of this, York let out another slow breath, half out of frustration with the exams and half from annoyance with Delta’s staring.

“Hey, earth to D. What the hell, man?”

Delta seemed to straighten a bit at being called out, and York cursed internally when he noticed the other swaying slightly in his seat. Serious lightweight, honestly.

"You have a very pretty eye,” Delta commented, his tone so dry and observational that it made the words seem even more outlandish.

“I have a...what?!” York cocked his head to the side a bit, and Delta frowned a bit. His bottom lip stuck out a bit in an almost pout, that York would have found amusing if the kid weren’t so drunk.

“I apologize, Mr. York," Delta slurred, making the formality sound even more forced. " 't wasn’t my intention to offend.”

York blinked twice, staring at the other before letting out what he was sure had to be his millionth sigh of the night. It was going to be a long night.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

O’Malley’s sharp elbow digging into his ribs was more than enough to get Sigma’s attention, hissing and accidentally biting down on the cigarette that dangled from his lips. He was glad for the interruption from his smoke break, however, when he saw just where O’Malley’s attention was being directed.

With the wrinkled slacks and dark sunglasses covering his eyes, their peer was hardly recognizable. Delta looked utterly miserable, hunched shoulders shrouded by the too-large shirt York had loaned him for the day as he climbed out of the teacher’s car. 

“Rough night, Delta?” O’Malley yelled out, drawing a laugh from Sigma as the boy winced at the loud shout. Sigma walked closer to where Delta was standing, the hungover teeenager waiting for York to get his bag from the back of the car. Sigma stopped in front of him, lazily blowing a puff of smoke at his face.

“Looks like you had fun,” Sigma sneered, the heavy implications of his tone impossible to miss. “But, of course, you don’t kiss and tell, do you?”

Delta suppressed a cough from the smoke, and before he could defend himself he felt York’s hand on his shoulder. The teacher shot the other two a look, almost a warning, before nudging Delta.

“Ready to go, D?” He barely had time to nod before York was steering him towards the building, pushing past the other two TAs. York kept a supportive hand between Delta’s shoulder blades., and he could only cringe at the thought of what the two must be talking about. York’s arm around him would only solidify Sigma’s theories about just how Delta had spent his night.

By the time Sigma had finished his cigarette, O’Malley had already texted out the news, sparking the rumours as word spread like wildfire through the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> York and Delta are never going to hear the end of this (in fact, there's a whole next chapter about just that)
> 
> thank you to everyone who has been reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! It keeps the both of us motivated to write more, and we're having a ton of fun with this au!


	18. York and Delta: The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who would have thought people would spread rumours when you spend the night with your teacher and come in hungover?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see the notes at the end for a ~bonus~ about what actually happened that night (mostly to make up for this being uploaded 3 days late)

Delta could not catch a break. The news that Delta had arrived to school with York that morning spread like the plague. Everytime he walked down the halls, Delta could hear students and his fellow TAs making snide remarks about his involvement with York. Which he will continue to assure everyone is purely professional, of course.

As the day went on, every social media account Delta had blew up with Sigma, O’Malley, and Gary making jokes about himself and York, who, while ruggedly handsome, was still a respected adult coworker that Delta was _not_ in a personal relationship with. At one point, O’Malley had attempted to start a trend of #LoveWins tweets about the two, though the hashtag didn’t catch on; Gary preferred more creative digs at his peer, and Sigma would rather be cruel in his own ways, wanting to make Delta squirm. 

Delta found sanctuary within the classroom, while York actively avoided him in between classes once Washington started stopping by and congratulating them on the sex that they didn’t have. There certainly was no intimate moments between them. Even if Delta did have a funny bruise on his thigh- he sort of remembers falling off the couch.

It didn’t help that Delta still had a killer headache, and the outrageous sunglasses he borrowed from York fit awkwardly over his glasses, forcing him to choose between vision or protection from the room’s harsh fluorescent lights. He picked the coverage, and he was sure his headache was worse from it. He squinted through the dark tinted glasses at the notes he was supposed to be reading, before eventually calling for York to take over. 

When the bell finally tolled, the harsh sound made his ears ring. Lunch was supposed to help clear things up somehow; or at least, so said York’s frustrated mumbling as he left for the teacher’s lounge to defend their names against the wave of teases and gossip that was no doubt swirling around the staff just as it was the student body. If Delta remembered anything from high school, he would know how false that sentiment was. The cafeteria was a hub of rumours and conversation, and Delta had no desire to be at the center of all of this unwanted attention. After the awkward interactions all day with York as the two were forced to endure side glances from students and whispered comments, Delta was expecting to spend his lunch hour alone in the classroom, eating a pack of crackers from yesterday’s lunch in peace. 

He should have known that would have been far too lucky on a day like today.

Minutes after York had vacated, Theta poked his head inside the door and offered a small smile. Delta instantly tensed, inwardly flinching before his friend even opened his mouth. 

“Hey, Delta?” Theta let himself in, fiddling with his sleeves while Delta barely looked at him to avoid the offending bright shades of purple on his shirt.

“Yes, Theta?” 

“North wanted to know if Mr. York left a folder? He said Mr.York would know what he meant… I guess he isn’t here though…” 

Delta rubbed at his eyes, knocking the sunglasses off balance. “Hold on, I know what folder Mr. Dakota wants.” 

While he sluggishly moved to get it off of York’s desk, Theta jittered around as if he had something else to say. Knowing he’d regret it, Delta took a deep breath and asked anyway. 

“Is something else on your mind, Theta?” 

“Those rumors aren’t true right?” He started, perking up instantly. “Everyone is talking about how Mr. York and you are…. you know.” 

Delta deadpanned. 

“ _No_ ,” he said firmly, eyes narrowed behind the oversized, dark glasses. The fact that his eyes were hidden took away from the effect of the glare, but Delta didn’t concern himself with that. “Mr. York and I are not having any kind of affair. Please do not indulge our peers’ in their childish games.” He practically hissed the words, handing over the file with a little more hostility than he intended. Theta looked surprised by the sharpness in his voice, immediately shrinking down a bit and mumbling a quiet “thanks” for the folder before leaving the room quickly, not wanting to upset Delta further. There was no doubt that Delta would apologize the next day, but for the moment he was only tired, annoyed, and humiliated. All Delta wanted was an hour of quiet, and the last thing he needed was his campus’ most naive student asking him if he was fucking his teacher or not.

_______________________________________________________

“I’m telling you guys, nothing happened alright?” 

York’s insistence of his innocence while the other teachers started accusingly did nothing to help him prove himself; If anything, the higher octave his voice achieved from his persistence only caused the others to doubt him more, meeting his attempted explanations with convinced smirks.

“Yeah,” Carolina hummed, “I’m sure.” 

The accounting teacher groaned, rubbing his temples. If he had known that this would happen he wouldn’t have brought Delta home in the first place. Grading exams by himself would have been easier instead of babysitting a drunk Delta that kept hitting on him.

“Seriously, man, you could get reported for this.” This time, the comment came from Wash, his concern coming off in the same “annoying brother voice” that Carolina constantly complained about. York groaned louder and more dramatically for show.

“There’s nothing to report!” York huffed. “We were grading essays, it got late. Simple as that.” Seriously, what’s so hard to understand? Not to mention, Delta was of legal age anyway, but York didn’t even dare to bring that up. It would only open a whole new can of worms. 

“We’re just concerned you’re going a little young there, York. Don’t want to end up like Wyoming,” Carolina teased, the smirk rubbing York the wrong way. It didn’t stop him from swooping in like a vulture with his next comment.

“What’s wrong Lina, jealous you didn’t get to me first?” He asked, grinning ear to ear at her as her expression shifted from smug to downright annoyed. These rumours may be a pain in the ass, but they were far from enough to stop York from taking advantage of an opportunity to flirt with Carolina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delta would like to point out he has some weird bruises and a lapse of memory from the night before, but that would only be adding fuel to the fire.   
> In truth, the reality of their night was just as embarrassing as the nasty rumours being spread. The only banging had been Delta's head against the wooden floor, after leaning forward too far on the couch while trying to shamelessly flirt with York throughout the night. York had responded by laughing his ass off and reminding Delta what a lightweight he was. He had threatened to make the TA sleep on the floor if he passed out there while he booted up his Xbox, York having given up on grading after he realized he had a drunk Delta on his hands.  
> Despite the threats, Delta had awoken on the couch with a thin blanket, and an embarrassed blush as he tried to immediately repress the dreams he had the night before regarding the man in the kitchen. Embarrassment quickly turned to gratitude at the sight a steaming pot of coffee waiting for him. Say what you will about the accounting teacher, but York wasn't all bad.


	19. North, South, and Theta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a chapter that spends some time with the Dakota twins and Theta too

“I just don’t get why an _ART_ teacher needs to have a TA is all, when I’m struggling to keep up with grading. It’s pretty much outright bullshit,” South complained loudly, her feet swinging as she sat on one of the art room’s many stools, harassing her brother during their lunch break. North’s eyes immediately shifted to Theta, knowing he would take the comment personally. 

“South, lay off, would you? It’s not like I can loan the kid to you, he’s not going to be much help in a math class, right Theta?”

Theta jumped at the acknowledgement. He was happy to just collect the used paintbrushes off abandoned tables from the class before, but with the pressure to pacify South in some way, he looked over and muttered that he wasn’t very good at math, offering a shy shrug.

South just scoffed, clearly still angry and more than happy to direct that anger towards the only two in the room. 

“What about Carolina, then? Why does she get _two_ TAs?”

“Because they both do half days,” North explained, not bothering to get frustrated with the situation. After enough years, you learned to just let South yell. “They’re student athletes, they split their days with Carolina, you know that.”

“It still doesn’t make it fair.” North didn’t bother to respond, knowing there was no reasoning with his twin when she got upset about something. He had to admit, she did get the short end of the stick, being given all of the freshman math classes with no extra help. But he knew South, and she was more than capable of managing on her own.

Once North stopped responding, the ranting died down as well, and her departure from the room drew a relieved sigh from Theta. He was never one for confrontation, and he was beyond grateful for the quiet that swept through the room. Still, the bitterness in her tone lingered in the back of his mind while he watched the water turn different colors, continuing to rinse out the paintbrushes.

“Does Miss Dakota like me?” Theta muttered, not looking up from the sink. North frowned thoughtfully, thinking about his twin’s loud ranting.

“She doesn’t hate you.” North was well aware that that wasn’t what Theta asked. 

Theta stared down at the murky water filling in the sink. Someone had poured straight paint down the drain and now it was filling up. He turned the water off and started to dry the brushes off with the too tough paper towels the school provided. 

“Hey, chin up, champ. South doesn’t know that her words have consequences is all. If anything it’s an attack on me, I promise.” The blond tried again, watching as Theta’s shoulders slumped. He finished with the paintbrushes, putting them back in a clean cup and tugging his hoodie sleeves down. 

“That doesn’t make it better.” He remarked under his breath. 

The poor kid was overly shy as it was, and with South constantly targeting him with her jealous bitching, Theta started coming in less and less, filling his minimum required hours when he could be in every day like Delta and Gary. To say North was disappointed was an understatement.

Not only was Theta great company, but North was always pleasantly surprised when he got to catch a glimpse of whatever art project the TA was currently working on in his own classes. As soon as Theta had started to open up to North, he had been eager to share all of his work, from large paintings hung on his walls back home to doodles he made during useless math lectures back on campus. Now, North was lucky to see him a couple days out of the week.

Even when he did come in, Theta was quiet, no longer starting up conversations before the bell or making small talk during their free period. When he tried to leave unnoticed at the end of class one day, North stopped him, a light hand falling on Theta’s shoulder. “Hey, mind staying after a second? I want to talk to you.”

Theta spun around sharply at the hand on his shoulder, looking terrified by North’s words, and even more so by his serious tone.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked quietly, his voice shaking a tiny bit as he watched North with wide eyes. North just squeezed his shoulder gently, shaking his head and nodding over at his desk.

“No, you’re not in trouble, Theta,” North reassured him, knowing that the TA was more nervous about North’s disapproval than anything. “Cmon, sit down.”

Theta followed North over to his desk, sitting down across from him and fidgeting nervously. Despite North’s reassurances, Theta couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done something to upset North. At least he didn’t have his sister’s explosive temper- Theta didn’t think he could handle it if North were to yell at him.

“What is it then?” Theta bravely questioned, briefly meeting his eyes. It was best to try to get through whatever was about to be thrown at him, right? 

North sighed, looking more concerned than anything.

“I’m worried about you, Theta. You hardly ever come in anymore, and when you are here, you’re always quiet. If it’s something I’ve done...I just miss having you around, to be honest.”

Theta was expecting a lot of things, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“You’re worried about me?” Theta couldn’t remember the last time someone genuinely wanted to check in and see how he was doing. Even Delta rarely asked how he was beyond basic formalities, despite the two living with each other. Though, that wasn’t for lack of caring- Theta just needed someone a bit more vocal about their concerns than Delta.

“Course I am,” North shrugged, relaxing a bit more and offering Theta a small smile before continuing. “You started coming in less and less, I was worried you were going to drop the program all together. I tried to talk to you about it, but you never seemed up for conversation most days.”

“I guess I haven’t been checking the dates… I can come in more if you need me.” Theta was still fidgeting, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. North kept back another quiet sigh, knowing it would only upset him more.

“Theta, this isn’t about what I want, okay?” North tried to explain, wishing the other would relax some. “You seemed to really be enjoying student teaching at the beginning of the semester, and you make the days more fun. But if you aren’t enjoying it anymore, I don’t want to force you to be here.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s a lot of fun… But I’m… not really cut out for it.” He shuffled his feet around. 

“The Director wouldn’t have picked you if you weren’t cut out for it. And I can’t think of a single better person to be helping me out in here.” There was no hesitation in North’s tone, making a point of just how certain he was of that particular fact. “Just consider coming in more often-you know I’m always here early in the mornings,” North added, leaving the offer on the table if Theta ever wanted to come in outside of class hours. He genuinely did enjoy his company, after all, and North could always use the help getting things set up at the start of the day.

“You really think so, North?” Theta looked hopeful, finally seeming somewhat reassured that North was genuinely just concerned. “If I come in more… can you ask Miss. Dakota to stop yelling at me?” 

North couldn’t help a small chuckle at that, nodding. 

“I’ll keep her out of here, promise. Sound like a deal?” North could tell Theta was still unsettled, but the TA did offer him a small smile and a nod, and that was progress. North smiled, leaning forward a bit as he stood up. Theta misread the movement entirely, immediately moving into North’s arms and giving the man a tight hug. 

North was surprised at first, before quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around Theta as well, returning the hug. When they stepped back North kept a hand on Theta’s shoulder, smiling fondly at him. 

“Cmon, let’s lock up and get out of here-you need a ride home?” Theta grinned at the offer, his regular excitement slowly returning now that there was no longer any tension between him and North.

“I’ll text Gary and tell him I’m riding with you,” he said eagerly, straightening a few chairs around the room while North fetched his keys. Theta followed him closely out of the building, falling into step next to him as they walked out to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was actually really enjoyable to write, and you can't tell me that North giving Theta supportive fatherly hugs doesn't make you smile
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading/commenting/leaving kudos, y'all are the best!


	20. TA Get Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot different than a normal chapter. Took us a while to write when we had a lot of details we wanted to include. Because we had too much we wanted to write but couldn't, we have been toying with a spin-off just about the TA college experiences.

The music was blaring too loudly from the cheap speaker, filling the apartment with a sound that was more tinny than musical. Delta was never much one for parties, but the TA’s were all taking advantage of the first long weekend of the semester for a get together, and he wasn’t going to be the only one who didn’t show. Besides, the apartment that Sigma, O’Malley, and Gary shared was much more spacious than Delta and Theta’s dorm room, and if he was lucky he could crash on their couch that night once things died down.

The seven TAs had all become close within weeks of joining the program, and after the semester of prep for their student teaching positions, the group was practically family. It wasn’t uncommon for Delta or Theta to show up at the apartment unannounced, or for the twins to invite themselves over. If they were lucky, Iota would offer to cook for them, but usually the amount of dishes O’Malley left piled in the sink drove her from the kitchen.

Delta was almost convinced he could enjoy the company of the others that night, until his train of thought was cut off abruptly. A loud voice yelled over the music, reminding Delta just why he didn’t enjoy these parties. He watched someone stumble towards him from the kitchen, drink in hand.

“So D, is it true you and York are still fucking?”

Delta cringed at O’Malley’s choice of words, his grip tightening around the plastic cup held in his own hand. The amount of times he had to deny this rumor was getting ridiculous. 

“I can assure you my relationship with Mr. York is purely professional.” Why Delta thought repeating himself for the thousandth time would change anything, he didn’t know.

There was a mocking snort as Sigma came up behind O’Malley, clapping him on the shoulder with one hand and holding a beer in the other. It wasn’t surprising that he was nearby; O’Malley and Sigma were often a package deal, especially when there was someone to berate or mock. 

“Yeah, totally professional. Staying over at his place, coming to school hungover,” Sigma taunted. The sneer on his face was more comical than menacing, given the slight glaze in his eyes from the alcohol.

“Weren’t you wearing one of his shirts, too?” Gary wasn’t missing the opportunity to make Delta the butt of Sigma and O’Malley’s jokes for the night, especially when he often found himself a target. Delta stammered a moment as the three ganged up on him, straightening up as he tried helplessly to defend himself against his so-called friends.

“He was only loaning me a shirt because I had stayed the night before…for grading!” He quickly added, but the confession was enough to get the others riled up again.

“Yeah, I’m sure you two were working really hard.” O’Malley’s cold laugh bounced off the walls, and a few heads turning as Delta flushed a bit.

“You’re looking a bit red there, Delta,” Sigma teased, clearly enjoying the other’s discomfort. He noticed Delta’s embarrassment and pounced, moving from O’Malley’s side to instead swing an arm around Delta’s shoulders, tugging him roughly against him. 

“What’s ’a matter?” He slurred, dragging out the words and frowning when Delta tried to move away from him. Sigma’s advances towards Delta had never been subtle, but right now Delta just wanted to get out of the tight grip keeping him pinned too close to Sigma’s side.

The twins and Theta were sitting nearby, exchanging looks that ranged from concerned to downright annoyed. It was Iota who finally spoke up, strolling over and shoving Sigma aside with a bit of force that didn’t match the cheer in her tone. “Hey Sig, wanna mix me another drink?” It wasn’t a suggestion judging by the way she steered him over to the kitchen before he could reply, flashing Delta a quick smile. He would have to thank her for the bailout later.

O’Malley seemed to think that teasing Delta lost half the fun without his partner in crime, because the conversation did a quick one eighty, quickly rounding on Gary instead about the way he was checking out the twins earlier that week. Gary just brushed it off, shrugging but shooting Eta a smile when the girl looked over.

“There’s a better chance of Sigma getting Delta into bed with him than you having a chance with either of the twins,” O’Malley pointed out, ignoring the face Delta pulled and wandering back to the kitchen to grab another beer while Gary and Delta raced to the couch. Delta’s smile was more than a bit smug when he got there first, leaving Gary to huff as he sat down on the floor. 

Theta was more than happy to move closer to Delta when his friend joined him on the couch, and Delta was just starting to think the night might be calming down some. That is, until Sigma and Iota came back into the room with matching grins and a black box in hand, holding it up at they too found spots in the living room to sit.

“Anyone up for Cards Against Humanity?” Iota’s question again didn’t leave room for argument; her sister was already starting to deal out white cards the the group, Theta leaning forward to reach his stack and passing some down the couch to Delta.

“Hey asshole, no cheating this time,” O’Malley said, sitting on the arm of the couch and nudging Gary with his toe. The accused just smirked, telling O’Malley not to be such a sore loser and scanning his cards idly.

Delta was never much one for parties, but he couldn’t deny that he found a kind of family in their little group. And he was enjoying himself, even when Theta was the one to write in yet another card about Delta and York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh you know, the AI are all a big gay orgy of friendship and dudebro-ness. I'll die with SigmaDelta as a ship. Also please enjoy how Delta isn't some dorky virgin nerd who doesnt have friends but in fact a pretty popular guy with a close-knit group of people he really cares about.


	21. Carolina, Gary, and Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're posting a lot because we had a schedule then we wanted to write for Thanksgiving. Whoops. 
> 
> Anyway, Wyoming and Flowers haven't been speaking ever since Wyoming chased him out of his classroom after Donut's fanfiction, and accused him of sleeping with a student.
> 
> But here's Gary. Ready to save the day. 
> 
> The next chapter that will follow this will be posted midday today as of Nov 25.

“Looks like you finally got away from York, huh?”

Wyoming looked up at the voice to see a familiar face leaning against the doorframe of his classroom. He offered a small smile, waving the science teacher in without hesitation.

“Ah, Carolina- seems quite a few of us got moved around this year.” As big of a pain in the arse as it had been to transfer all of his belongings into a new classroom, Wyoming was grateful that he no longer shared a hallway with York.

Carolina snorted in response, unable to blame him for his disdain towards the accounting teacher. 

“Your boyfriend stole the good lab from me,” Carolina said, moving into the room and leaning against one of the desks. “Now all the chem kids are stuck in D304, with the leaky faucet. Not even the new beakers can make up for that.”

Wyoming didn’t have time to protest that his relationship with Flowers was nothing past friendship when Carolina continued talking.

“I get that he’s teaching bio this year, but really, what does he need the biggest lab in the department for?” Her expression matched her tone, mouth pulled down into a frustrated scowl as she complained about the room reassignments. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have a suitable answer for you, sorry,” Wyoming responded dryly. He took to taking a drink out of his coffee mug, hoping that Carolina would just ask what she had to say instead of dance about. He understood that she was unsettled by Flowers, who wasn’t? But it didn’t mean she, like so many others, had to go through him. Especially when it’s obvious the two hadn’t spoken in a week. 

She seemed to pick up on his agitation. “Well if you get the chance, tell him I need his digital scale for Wednesday. Some kid broke the one in my classroom.”

Wyoming scoffed at her dismissively, and she raised her eyebrow. 

“That wasn’t the only thing I had to say, Reg.” 

“Well then, by all means, _please_ continue.” 

Getting just as annoyed as Wyoming, Carolina folded her arms over her chest. There was a reason she didn’t like talking to the man, but she had forgotten it until now. “Wash is too scared to talk to you for some help with prepping his kids for the standardized testing next week. The least you can do is give him some pointers, if you aren’t busy being a total tool.” She huffed, walking off.

“Well, she’s pleasant.” Gary remarked, looking after her with his typical bored expression. Wyoming stifled a snicker, not wanting to encourage any disrespect for the woman, but absolutely agreeing with him regardless. 

“She’s something alright.” 

“Why is she always looking after Mr. Washington?” 

“You don’t know? They’re siblings, old chap.”

Gary blinked at him. 

“It’s a… _complicated_ family dynamic.”

“Ah. Like your relationship with Butch.” 

Wyoming frowned, grumbling something under his breath while Gary cocked his head. 

“Knock-knock.”

The english teacher found himself unable to resist a good joke, rising to the challenge rather than remaining annoyed at the TA.

“Who’s there?”

“Isa.” 

“Isa who?” 

“Isa ‘bout time you work things out with Butch.” 

There was a short pause between the two, and Wyoming narrowed his eyes. 

“Gary-”

“I don’t actually care about it, but you are increasingly more irritable since he stopped coming around,” Gary said bluntly. Though he didn’t know what happened, he knew that something caused Flowers to stop appearing. Without Flowers to buffer Wyoming’s days, the man was left in a sour mood all week.

Wyoming let out a heavy sigh and directed his attention to the papers he had been looking over. 

“I’ll be sure to remedy _my_ relationship to make you more comfortable.” 

“Good, because I hate reading lines with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wyoming would pull Butch during his other free period and make him read lines for class so Gary - who is atrocious at it, seriously, kid lacks emotion when he reads, doesn't have to read. Gary had been filling in now that Wyoming had to go and be an asshole. Carolina like everyone else, has noticed the two not talking and tried to ask in her own way if Wyoming was okay before she got frustrated. It's you know, complicated.


	22. Wyoming and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know, I actually hate everything about this chapter. I'm sorry it feels rushed and awkwardly spaced out. It was trickier to write than expected. But alas, Wyoming and Flowers make up.

Wyoming knew that he must have went too far when Butch didn’t greet him the next morning. Or the next day. Or the next full school week. 

Butch once actually stared directly at him before he had silently walked into his classroom and closed the door, and didn’t even make any contact the entire day. Wyoming danced awkwardly around Butch, who outright refused to acknowledge him. It was even harder on him when Butch chatted so cheerfully with the other staff but made point to glance with his nose upturned at Wyoming. He wouldn’t admit to being bothered by the childishness, especially when he started it by accusing him of having an inappropriate relationship with a student. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t sting to see just how cold the jovial teacher could be. 

He tried anything but actually apologizing to talk to Butch. He even sent Gary over to remind Butch there were other classrooms on Wednesday and to quiet his class down. Anything to get a response of some kind. Gary appreciated being a middleman between a feuding couple about as much as anyone would expect: not at all. 

His saving grace was that Gary was here to help. Sure, it wasn’t the kid’s fight, but with an ample amount of line reading for the play they were teaching in class, Gary wanted Butch to come back and take over during his free periods more than he hated playing messenger. Now, it’d been one week since their meeting with Donut, and Wyoming had to mentally prepare himself to apologize after Gary successfully told Flowers to come see Reggie before he left for the weekend. 

He could say he was sorry sarcastically, but to actually mean it? That was a whole other thing. 

There was a second of panic as the door opened. The feeling only intensified when Butch refused to give any kind of greeting, moving to lean against Wyoming’s desk and stare the man down silently. Wyoming was far too prideful for groveling, but he was beginning to think the situation just might call for it when Butch spoke up.

“Well?”

Chattiest man on the planet when you needed him to be quiet, and silent when you wanted him to speak up. Typical of Butch, really, if Wyoming was being honest with himself. He was far too stubborn to apologize outright, and the two were locked in a silent staring match before the sound of someone clearing their throat stole their attention.

“As much fun as wasting my Friday afternoon making sure you two act like adults sounds, Sigma drove today and I don’t want to walk home,” Gary said dryly, looking more impatient than anything as he watched the two. Wyoming fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“No one is keeping you Gary, so sorry to waste your time.” The glare he fixed on his TA didn’t go unnoticed, before he finally forced himself to turn his gaze back to Butch. “I would hope that we’re both capable of settling this on our own, like adults.”

“Says the man who needed to use his TA to talk to me,” Butch hummed, the cheerfulness in his tone bitter and forced. “Is he going to apologize for you too?” 

“Perhaps I wouldn’t have needed him to lure you in here if you hadn’t been giving me the cold shoulder for the past week!” Wyoming huffed, arms folded tightly across his chest as he frowned at the other. This was supposed to be fixing things, yet Butch seemed hellbent on preventing that. 

Butch scoffed, and nothing was more unnerving than this man actually being upset. Wyoming was used to short bursts of anger and even disapproval from the man, but he never imagined Butch’s anger to be quite so heartless. It was everything anger shouldn’t be, detached and dispassionate.

“I’m not the one who kicked me out of your room first.” 

While he had a point, Wyoming still rolled his eyes.

“Is that what you’re mad about?” 

Butch gave him a pointed look, lips pursed. Clearly Wyoming said the wrong thing because he looked as if he was about to yell until Gary stepped in and cleared his throat. 

“You’re not here to make things worse.” 

Wyoming took a deep breath, rubbing his neck before meeting Butch’s narrowed gaze again. He sighed, watching the look briefly soften. 

“I’m sorry I was a prat.” 

Butch’s shoulders slumped, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Wyoming waited for Butch to speak. If he could just say anything to show he was listening and not just looking at his fingernails would be nice too. So Wyoming continued to speak. 

“I shouldn’t have been so short with you when you were just trying to be patient with Donut.” 

After what felt like an endless amount of time, the other teacher closed and his eyes and tilted his head back in a resigned sort of way. 

“I think you were more of a bratty melodramatic jerk about it. But I’ll accept you acknowledging you should have been nicer to me.” Relief washed over Wyoming to hear Butch’s high-spirited tone return to him. He let out a content sigh, realizing this meant that he was okay with him again. Confirmed by how even Gary exhaled and stood up. 

“Have a good weekend you two. See you later in class, Butch.” And he left the two alone after feeling satisfied that they wouldn’t be fighting. 

“So…” Wyoming started, “would you like to get dinner?” He posed the question hesitantly, paying more attention to Butch and poorly waving his TA goodbye with a flick of his hand. 

“Only if you start groveling and tell me how much you missed me,” Butch answered, shooting him a playful grin. 

“Don’t ruin the moment, dear.” He huffed, starting towards the door then holding it open for the other. “But I did miss you terribly. That and Gary is just terrible at line reading, honestly, Butch. One week has ruined the entire flow of my lesson plan.”

Butch just laughed it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so weird to think something that started from me and QueenEdgar just talking for weeks and staying up until 5am almost every night playing around with this AU turned into people actually reading, and not only that, but wanting more. We decided we will in fact write flashback filler chapters for all the times we forgot to explore things. When we never had a linear plot and suddenly now we do, it can get pretty overwhelming! But knowing we have such a loyal reader base is outstanding. Seriously shout out to Lemonkith. I really hate the idea of disappointing you here because trust me, I'm disappointed in this chapter too. Hopefully with the little side chapter Kat and I started working on, we'll redeem ourselves!


	23. Thanksgiving Pt. 1: Gary, Wyoming, and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy American Thanksgiving everyone. Have a chapter dedicated to our favorite couple and their pretty much adopted son.

Thanksgiving was one of those weird American holidays that honored the genocide of a native people with the misguided cover of a happy family tradition of giving thanks. Gary found the benefit was great food and the following day of amazing shopping sales (the only way he got a new Xbox last year for the apartment); the downside was he had nowhere to go to celebrate. 

His family flat out refused to take part in the holiday ever since his mom got into a weird Social Justice blogging phase. Since then she always called it a “blood holiday,” and while this was absolutely true, Gary still appreciated a free home-cooked meal from childhood. While avoiding his parents saved him a headache, staying at the apartment with Sigma and O’Malley, who also didn’t go home for the holiday, meant home would smell like cheap beer, cigarettes, and sex instead of turkey. Gary really wanted that good old-fashioned American cooking smell for at least one day out of the year. 

That’s why, a week in advance, Gary had given Wyoming one good long look before asking, “Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?” When Wyoming gave him an odd look at the mere suggestion that he would be celebrating the American holiday, Gary took it upon himself to invite himself over. 

This lead to the weirdest dinner he had ever been to. For some reason, when Gary showed up to Reginald’s house, he had figured the man to be a good cook, but when he noticed that the table was set with a premade, store-bought chicken dinner, instant mashed potatoes, and other microwavable side dishes, Gary felt more at home than he ever expected to. 

“Sorry, chap, neither of us cook,” Reggie explained when he noticed Gary glancing at the still-packaged chicken. That’s when Gary realized Butch was curled up on the couch watching TV. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have been surprised that the botany teacher was there, but it did confirm that the two finally got over whatever weird fight they had going on. 

“Nor do we usually celebrate American holidays!” Butch called from the couch, and Reggie smiled fondly.

“He’s not American?” Gary asked, shooting a look at Butch as the man drifted in the kitchen in some silly Christmas themed holiday sweater. He instantly went to Reggie’s side and Gary absolutely called it that these two were disgustingly domestic.

“I’m Canadian. But it’s always fun to try new things,” he hummed, shuffling over to the sink to get a glass of water. 

“Canadians don’t have thanksgiving?” 

Butch laughed, turning back to sip on his water. “It was about a month and a half ago. But don’t worry, Canada celebrates European imperialism just as hard as America! I’m just excited to get to use the cute turkey placemats Reggie has again.” He strolled to the table, picking up one of the knit turkey shaped cloth mats. Gary found the hint of bitterness in Butch’s voice amusing when it was masked with enthusiasm for cheap decorations. 

And really, that was one of the best parts about the cheap holiday. Culturally insensitive decorations. 

“They were York’s when he used to live here.” Reggie defended himself, pulling a chair for Butch and himself. 

Amused, Gary took his own chair and prompted for Wyoming to explain himself while Butch excitedly passed plates around. 

“You and Mr. York lived together?” 

“Oh, there isn’t a combination of us that haven’t at some point lived together.” Wyoming’s pure bitterness didn’t go unnoticed, crinkling his nose in disgust as all of the repressed memories came flooding back. “A teaching salary isn’t a lot.” Wasn’t that the truth. 

Idle conversation eventually filled the dining room while they ate. The silence was filled with Butch’s stories about the days he spent touring with the band he started when he was a teenager (a fact Gary would have never guessed) and Wyoming’s retelling of failed attempts at having roommates in the past. Most interesting were the stories about the not brief enough period of time where York had stayed with Wyoming, including a very amusing retelling of the time York set Ramen noodles on fire and had to talk to the fire department in his undies at 3am. Gary would have to tell his own roommates about that particular incident. 

All in all, dinner was cheap and greasy, but it was still fun. For dessert there was the classic of pumpkin pie and a weird flat, slightly burnt bread Butch called “bannock,” which was surprisingly good and apparently the only thing that Butch could bake. Afterwards, hot chocolate was served and the three spent the night watching cheesy movies instead of the football game, because Wyoming found it a pisspoor excuse of a sport, Butch much prefered hockey, and Gary couldn’t stay interested long enough to get past halftime. He’d wait for the cool new commercials to hit Youtube the next day. 

By the time he needed to leave, Butch had fallen asleep against Wyoming’s shoulder on the couch, with Wyoming playing with his hair. 

Gary left after a long goodbye to Reggie, and ended up taking home the rest of the rotisserie chicken for his roommates. 

By far, it was the best Thanksgiving he’d ever had, all thanks to a guy from England and a native Canadian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I dislike Thanksgiving a lot on a personal level. So I had fun making Gary and Butch not like it.  
> 2) Wyoming can not cook. Like... at all.  
> 3) Butch is absolutely Inuit in this fic, if anyone was confused on what I was talking about, and more on how he ended up in the States will be talked about later. Look forward to it! It'll be heart breakingly sad! :D  
> 4) York and Wyoming used to live together to save money on rent. There is in fact a chapter that will explain why it failed so miserably. I'm very excited to talk about it later.  
> 5) A chapter about Theta and the Dakotas are coming later today!


	24. Thanksgiving Pt. 2: Theta, North, and South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving, have yet another Thanksgiving chapter! The follow-up to this chapter will hopefully be posted tonight, assuming working the black friday rush doesn't kill me first

The entire school seemed in far too good of spirits for a Monday morning, but North supposed the knowledge that it was only a two day week would do that to a place. Even South seemed to be in a good mood, stopping by that morning while North and Theta were setting out supplies for the day.

“Mom called,” she said as she let herself in, going to sit at North’s desk while he moved between rows of desks. “Think she’s still in shock that the whole family is going to be under one roof for Thanksgiving this year.” Not that either twin could blame their parents for their excitement; they had gone to two different colleges on opposite sides of the country, and by chance they ended up at the same school, close to their hometown.

“As long as we both get our own pies, I’ll start going home every year,” North replied, an easy smile on his face while his sister rolled her eyes, albeit fondly. “We’re taking my car, right?”

South scoffed at that, spinning in the chair idly. “My cruiser barely makes it to the school and back, no shit we’re taking your car.” That drew a genuine laugh from North, flashing his twin a smile. 

“Okay, okay, point made. Just be ready, we want to leave early on Thursday.” The two continued to chat about their Thanksgiving plans, and Theta couldn’t help but watch the two as he pulled different paints from the drawers on the sides of the room. He was used to the two constantly bickering, and seeing Miss Dakota in such good spirits was bordering on unnerving. 

By the time he had all of the supplies for the day set out, South was leaving the room again, North reclaiming his desk chair with a fond smile on his face. He caught Theta watching him and waved him over, seeing that the other was done setting up for the day.

“What about you, Theta,” he asked conversationally, turning the chair to face him. “Got any big Thanksgiving plans?”

Theta forced his face to remain impassive at the question, giving a half shrug. “Not really,” he muttered. “I usually eat with Delta, but he’s flying home to see his family.”

“Your family’s not close by?” North asked. He remembered all too well the Thanksgivings spent in a dorm room when he couldn’t afford to fly home, so he sympathized. 

Theta remained quiet at the question, looking down at the floor in favour of answering the question. North furrowed his brow at the sudden silence, the change in tone glaring. He hesitated before asking quietly.

“Theta…? Hey, you alright?” The concern in his voice was evident, North rising from his chair to take a few steps closer to the TA. 

To give him some credit, Theta really did try to brush it off. He told himself he could easily change the subject and avoid this conversation like he did every time someone asked about his family. But this was North, and something about the man made Theta feel inclined to trust him. Or, at the very least, give him the bare minimum; not that there was much to tell.

“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he mumbled, before clearing his throat a bit and glancing over at North before continuing. “I, uh, don’t really have a family to go back to, is all. I grew up with a lot of people, foster care and all.” 

North kept his surprise in check past the short raise of an eyebrow, keeping quiet in case Theta wanted to share more. The TA quickly moved on from the subject, though, glossing over his childhood.

“I’ve been staying with Delta in college, don’t really do much for Thanksgivings, though.” 

North was quiet for a long time after Theta’s confession, long enough that Theta began questioning if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut in the first place. Just when Theta was about to apologize and insist that he was fine, North flashed him a small but genuine smile.

“Well, no one should have to eat alone on Thanksgiving,” he told Theta warmly, already reaching for his phone to shoot his family a message. “You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner, my mom always freaks out over company, and I’m sure they’d like to meet the kid who’s been keeping me in line this semester,” North teased. 

It took Theta a minute to realize that North was being one hundred percent serious, and the second he comprehended the offer a huge grin split across his face. He could hardly remember a decent Thanksgiving holiday with real, home-cooked food that hadn’t ended in some kind of tragedy or violence, and the idea of getting to spend the day with North made Theta more excited than it should have. North was focused in on his phone as he shot a message to inform his parents of the new addition to the dinner table when Theta’s smile started to falter a bit.

“...hey North? Is Miss Dakota going to be there?” Theta already knew the answer, of course, but his worried tone made it much more clear what he was asking about, and it had to do with much more than simply her presence. North was quick to dismiss Theta’s concerns with a wave of a hand, an easy smile still on his face.

“Don’t worry, Theta. She won’t pull anything, I promise.” The man gave a short chuckle, setting his phone down. “My mother would sooner die than let her be rude when we have guests over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get another step closer to unlocking the tragic backstory for all of our lovely TAs. Stick around to witness the madness that is the Dakota family Thanksgiving; poor Theta doesn't know what he's in for.


	25. Tex and Church

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N from QueenE: The rest of the Thanksgiving Theta chapter is in progress, turns out working a double and an overnight on black friday has a way of sucking out your soul and leaving you useless in terms of writing. Will be up soon, I'm sorry for the delay. 
> 
> A/N from Ladybugs: Happy Black Friday, please don’t hit any cars in the parking lot

“Tex I swear to fucking god it was an accident.” 

Church held his hands up, but Tex was rounding in on him. She had her fist balled in his shirt, tugging the man down to her height, eyes narrowed.

“You hit. My. Car.”

“I was just trying to park, a kid ran out in front of me! Look, would you rather I have hit a student?” He argued, averting his gaze from her.

“Frankly? Yes!! A student isn’t going to cost me $7,500 in car repairs!” Tex shouted, releasing his shirt so she could throw her hands in the air.

“Do you not have car insurance?” He asked, watching her face shift from anger to defensive. “You drive a fucking BMW, how do you NOT have insurance?”

He was met with a long, silent pause. Church frowned. 

“Tex...did you steal that car?” 

“I’m borrowing it, and the guy owed me a favour anyways. Besides, I was sick of York thinking he was the only one with a sweet ride around here,” Tex grumbled, rubbing her shoulder passively. 

“Oh my god, Tex. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Hey asshole, this doesn’t take away from the fact you hit my fucking car!” 

“You STOLE the car from the start!” 

“Would you stop yelling that? I didn’t steal anything, and you should be more worried about how you’re going to scrap up the money for repairs.” 

“What the hell, Tex, you can’t be mad at me for hitting a stolen car!” Church defended again, stepping away so he could stare down at her. 

Tex squinted back at him.

“Oh, I can. And I will. And you’re paying for my car, buddy.” 

“What?! Come on! I’m on a teacher’s salary. I drive a frickin’ ‘91 Buick stationwagon piece of shit. If I had money, I’d have, you know…. a slightly better piece of shit.” 

“Guess you’ll have to get creative.” 

Church groaned in despair, wondering if Tex could save them both some trouble and just sell the kidney she was going to rip out of him when he couldn’t pay up.


	26. Flowers' unusual daddy mug feat. everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please google "Big daddy mug" to truly understand the severity of the situation. 
> 
> A shout out to Spencer and Abbi for encouraging a chapter of this fic that really should not have been encouraged.
> 
> Seriously.

“Jesus christ, I think Flowers’ left his mug here.” South strolled over to the staff room’s counter, eyeing the oversized mug with a blue printed logo on the front reading “Big Daddy.” She grabbed it, dumping the unfinished contents in the sink before holding it up to the other girls in the lounge. 

“I’m going by his room next, I’ll drop it off to him before someone pitches it.” Carolina sighed, figuring it was the least she could do to butter up the other science teacher in hopes of getting dibs on the funding when the next budget was made. Most of teaching, if they were being honest, was just the instructors exchanging small, odd favours to get a new book or some markers. 

South glanced between the cup and Carolina before shrugging. “Why the hell does he have a mug that says “Big Daddy” anyway?” She asked, plopping down in a chair next to CT. The girl grinned, about to say something that was instantly shut down with a sharp glare. 

“Maybe Wyoming got it for him.” Tex suggested. 

Carolina stood, grabbing the cup that was far bigger than any normal mug and brushing it off. 

“Whatever, I’m sure he’s gonna start looking for it anyway. I’ll take one for the team.” 

“You mean you’re just buttering him up because the science department is supposed to get new books,” South shot back. The redhead scoffed at her, acting offended for the mere suggestion, but didn’t dispute it. 

When Carolina dropped the mug off, no one was in the classroom, even though the door remained open. She frowned, but sat the cup down on his desk and left. 

-

“I have to say, going out for lunch is much better than those cheese crackers,” Flowers laughed, walking into his room with Wyoming on his tail. 

“It’s a blessing that bakery opened just five minutes away,” he agreed, watching over the man with a fond smile. 

Flowers didn’t notice him, instead going to his desk with a “huh” and picking up the mug that was placed there. “Did you leave this for me?” He accused, holding it up. When Wyoming got a good look at the writing on the mug, he burst out laughing. 

“Dear god, no. I don’t encourage that little kink of yours.” 

Flowers frowned and stared back at it, peering inside to see the stained remains of early coffee. “It’s not mine.” He explained, setting it back down on his desk. Clearly whoever put it there thought it was. And while he appreciated the thought, he was a little unsettled. 

“Keep it, chap. It certainly suits you,” Wyoming mused, running his finger along his mustache, dusting any leftover crumbs from lunch. Flowers turned back to him, eyes scrutinizing and a grin never failing his face.

“Was that a backhanded insult, Reggie?” He accused in a singsong voice, not offended in the slightest if it was an insult. He knew Wyoming didn’t indulge in those interests.

“Not at all, Butch. Really, if someone put it on your desk, it’s yours now.” 

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have encouraged the man to keep it, because he ended up using the oversized mug every day for the next week, much to the complaint of students who found it just plain awkward to look at. Hell, the little prick even brought this cup to his house. 

-

Just when Wyoming thought he was going to have to smash that bloody mug to see its end, his prayers were answered in the form of their coworker, Utah. Wyoming had been stopping to pick up extra printer paper when the man came into the staff lounge, looking for something determinedly before finally speaking up.

“Uh, hey guys, has anyone seen a really big coffee mug?” Utah asked, looking to York and North, who were sitting across from one another and taking advantage of their overlapping free periods. Neither man had an answer, shrugging him off. 

“What’s it look like?” North asked.

“My kid got it for me. It says ‘Big Daddy’ on it in blue?” Wyoming turned his head to conceal the mix of amusement and relief at the confession from the mug’s owner.

“Nah man, haven’t seen it.” York supplied, shaking his head. 

“We’ll keep an eye out for you though.” North added, giving a supportive smile. 

Utah rubbed his neck, muttering to himself about where the hell this cup so big could have gone too. He was sure he left it on the counter Monday… 

“Have you asked Butch?” Wyoming finally chimed in, his smirk concealed more effectively by the time he turned around. York made a face about the implication of Flowers owning a “Big Daddy” mug, but Utah seemed to perk up.

“You’ve seen it? My kid would be crushed if he knew I lost the thing.” Wyoming was more than happy to let Utah know he had seen the mug floating around Butch’s classroom the past few days, sending the man off to bother Flowers himself over the missing cup.

If Wyoming ever saw that damned mug again in his life, it would be too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're kinda going back to the randomness of each chapter.
> 
> Also Reggie is fucking savage, just tossing Butch under the bus like that. smh


	27. Thanksgiving Pt. 3: Theta and the Dakotas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boy howdy, wow, man, remember when I was supposed to post this like 3 days ago? Me too, sorry again!

As promised, any short comments South had in regards to Theta’s presence only lasted through the car ride, and after kicking him to the backseat in order to ride shotgun, she had mostly ignored the TA on the drive to the Dakota household.

Theta felt nerves fluttering in the pit of his stomach as they pulled into a long driveway, a nice sized house considering it was just North and South’s parents living there in a small suburb a few cities over. Theta trialed behind the twins a bit, South moving to the door with an unusual excitement surrounding her. North was quick to lock the car and attempt to race her to the door, laughing as she half stumbled to press the buzzer. 

“Jackass, you made me trip,” she snapped at him, taking a step back and grinning at the sudden, loud sound of barking on the other side of the door. North glanced behind him to give Theta a nod to step up onto the porch with them, smiling encouragingly. When the door swung open, Theta’s attention was immediately captured by the eighty pounds of fur barrelling towards them- specifically, towards North.

Theta scrambled back to avoid being knocked to the ground, the large labrador twisting in tight circles around the twins as North crouched down, clearly just as excited to see the dog as the dog was to see him. When he was certain he wouldn’t be floored by the large dog, Theta crouched down as well, bumping knees with North as he pet the dog, an excited grin on his face.

“That’s Ginger,” North told him, laughing at just how happy Theta looked, letting the dog lick his cheeks and barely paying any mind when North got up to greet his parents. His attention was stolen away when an unfamiliar voice addressed him, a hand moving to his shoulder and ushering him inside. 

“Cmon now, inside- you must be Theta, North’s told us all about you.” He looked up at the speaker, and was met with a warm smile from whom he could only assume was the Dakota’s mother. She had South’s sharp features, and the same platinum blonde hair as the twins, cut into a short bob just above her shoulders. Across the room North was talking to a man with greying hair, his father Theta assumed. South was kicking her shoes off by the door, patting the dog affectionately as she closed the door. He offered their mother a shy smile, offering his hand.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he confirmed, wondering just what North had had to say about him over the past few months. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dakota.” He tried to remember everything Delta taught him about “the importance of a firm handshake” when the woman opted to pull him into a hug instead, catching Theta by surprise but bringing a smile to his face nonetheless. 

After a quick introduction to Mr. Dakota and a surprisingly civil conversation with South, the family was quickly being moved over to the table, North motioning to the chair beside him for Theta. 

There was something surreal about the entire scene before him, and Theta couldn’t help but feel like it was too good to be true. North’s family was all making small talk and light-hearted jokes while overflowing plates of food were passed around the table. Even South seemed in good spirits while the dog moved around the table, circling in hopes of scraps being dropped.

When North tried to bring Theta into the conversation, he froze; what if he said the wrong thing, and somehow ruined what was the closest thing to a perfect holiday Theta had ever been exposed to? He was hyper aware of just how many seconds had passed since Mr. Dakota had asked him a question- what was being asked Theta had no idea, too busy panicking about how to answer. Lucky for Theta, North was perceptive, especially of his TA, and the twin easily answered for him, talking at lengths about Theta’s art and how college was going. Under the table, North moved a hand to squeeze Theta’s knee reassuringly, and after a moment’s hesitation Theta spoke up for himself, finally joining in on the conversation.

Despite his fears, opening his mouth hadn’t resulted in a catastrophic end to the evening, and Theta found both of North’s parents easy to talk to. They both seemed interested in what he had to say, both about his own classes and about working with North. South made a few comments about the unfairness of North having a TA in the first place, but that was nothing Theta hadn’t heard before, and a sharp look from Mrs. Dakota was enough to keep South quiet while she instead turned her attention to refilling her plate with a second helping of everything on the table.

By the time dessert was being passed around (an apple pie for North and cherry for South- the two never could agree on just one, according to Mrs. Dakota) Theta was already stuffed. But he didn’t want to be rude, and he would never turn down a perfectly good slice of pie. South wore a triumphant grin when he chose the cherry over the apple, and North feigned hurt at the supposed “betrayal.” Theta was just happy to be included. He’d spent Thanksgiving with dozens of families, but the Dakota’s had by far been his favourite. Even South begrudgingly admitted that Theta tagging along made for a nice change, as she gave up her spot riding shotgun to stretch out in the backseat on the way home, a large bag filled with leftovers tucked on the floorboards.

As North drove the three of them home that night, long after both South and Theta had dozed off in the car, he was already planning on roping the kid into spending Christmas with them as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm scrapping up the lack of real names here to the fact that, lets be honest, if your last name is Dakota and you have twins, you owe it to society to nickname them North and South


	28. Washington and Maine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in order to appease the Maine-god, you must feed him Chinese food.

The silence that filled Washington’s fifth period freshmen English class for the third day in a row was glorious for all the teachers in the West wing of the building. Wash soon found that he could make his lesson plans longer because not a single student dared to talk unless directly spoken to. Granted it made kids stare wide-eyed with fear whenever Wash would ask an open response question, but he’d still take the quietness over the once rowdy class any day.

The only problem is that Maine was an utter mystery to him. 

Every time Wash would try to talk to him, he felt as if he was annoying the large man. But surely if he was sitting in on his class to help, he had to like him to some degree, right? 

It became routine for Wash to try and strike up conversation with Maine, and as soon as his class had scurried off in relief about the period ending, he started in on his daily attempt. 

“So, I think we’re finally getting through to them, huh?” 

Maine had been gathering his things, closing his laptop and moving it off of Wash’s desk where he sat while Wash walked around and taught his class. When he was spoken to, he looked up without noise, then went back to stuffing his things into his bag so he could get down to the gym in time for the next bell. 

“Yeah…” 

Chalk it up to another failure. Wash didn’t even want to try to keep the man from his next class; Sigma came in yesterday to literally retrieve him with a sneer on his face. Poor kid probably hated not having a real purpose in the program and lashed out at Maine for not being the biochemistry teacher that he was supposed to be paired with. Wash could relate to being shoved in random spots to fill a living body requirement at times. Especially since Sigma was only paired with Maine because he knew ASL. 

“Oh hey, do you like Chinese food? I figured I’d bring some in tomorrow for lunch, you know, as a thank you?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

He made a sort of approving grunting noise that Wash took as a good thing, seeing as his entire face lit up. 

The older teacher offered a weak smile back. 

“Any preferences? I usually get Chicken Lo Mein.” 

Maine passively shrugged, making Wash think about his approach again. 

“You seem like a General Tso kind of guy.” 

At that Maine shrugged again, but at least this time Wash could actually tell he was smiling. It was a good start, he decided, smiling back at the man with a new wave of confidence on the matter. He just had to keep his comments requiring a more definitive response, like a nod, yes, no, shrug, etc. Simple things until he learned Maine’s body language better, and Maine seemed grateful for the kid stepping up and talking for him. 

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy. Thanks again for helping out.” 

“No problem.” Maine’s voice was forced, almost sounding as if he was entirely in pain by speaking and certainly not what Wash expected to hear. The fact he made the effort spoke volumes, and Wash felt like he should get the guy lunch every day at that point. And a cough-drop… 

None the less, the next day when he had Maine’s order on his desk by fifth period, Maine gave him a sharp, appreciative nod, and once again, Wash’s class was well-behaved. 

It was making for a great system and even better teamwork when Wash started being able to translate the gruff grunting noises and small shrugs and half-assed hand gestures for other teachers and students that Sigma could hardly translate. After York filled Wash in that the man had cancer in his throat, prohibiting almost all forms of vocalization after countless surgeries and chemo trials, Wash made the active attempt to really get to know the man, beyond just what he had heard from the others. 

Turns out Maine had a lot to say, you just had to listen the right way to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic might be taking a hiatus soon, so updates are going to be slower and farther in between. We have another fic we're gonna focus on for a while, but expect lots of Christmas related stuff back here. We also want to make a spinoff focusing more outside the school- like the TAs or the home lives of each teacher. 
> 
> it'll be linked through this fic as a series, and suggestions for what anyone wants to see are accepted. We have a lot of ideas for writing the TAs in a huge open poly relationship and talking about their antics in college because it's fun and also Deltasig. Deltasig speaks to us personally.


End file.
